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THE  KLONDIKE 
STAMPEDE 


E.  ADNEY 


Reprinted  on  Demand 

by 

University 

Microfilms 
International 


Ann  Arbor      London 


This  is  an  authorized  facsimile 

of  the  original  book,  printed  by 

microfilm-xerography  on  acid-free  paper. 

UNIVERSITY  MICROFILMS  INTERNATIONAL 

Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  U.S.A. 

London,  England 

1981 


THE  KLONDIKE 
STAMPEDE 


..ss^       — — r 


TAPPxXN  \ADNEy| 

*^PKC1AL  CORtESIVMitNT   OF    **  HARI'KR*:*    U'ECKLY 
IX    THK   IU.OM)IKK 


FROrUSELT  ILLUSTRATED 


,*"»=. 


jMEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 
i  1900 


4 


<^^7^  ^^<SI  ^  f 


^  % 


TWO  KLONDIKUIS 


C^PnWw.  »*9».  by  HA«rm«  ft  Bkothkbs. 


TO 

THE    NOBLE.  HARDY    PIONEERS 
OF  THE  YUKON 

THIS  LITTLK   ACCOf.VT  OK  SOME 
TROUBLK    THKY     HAVE     CAI'S£0 

Id  I>cMcatcd  be 

THE  AITHOR 


165381 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

Arrival  oi  Excelsior  and  Portland  with  Treasure  and  News  of  Great 
Strike — Excitefnent  that  Followed,  and  the  Stampede  I'or  Klon- 
dike  P^S<  1 

CHAPTER  n 

Outfitting  in  Victoria — Departure— Incidents  on  the  Steamer — Prep- 
arations for  Landing  at  Skagway II 

CHAPTER  in 

Landing  at  Skagwar — Excitement  and  Hardships  and  Confusion-^ 
A  New  City — Duty  on  Hor»€;s — First  Glimpse  of  the  Trail — Ska^« 
way  River— -Al  the  "Foot  of  the  Hill"— Horses  Down  .     .       yy 

CHAPTER  IV 

Pack-horses  go  to  Dyea  —  Life  in  Skagway  —  Experiences  of  Old- 
Timers — Start  on  the  Skagway  Trail — Terrors  of  the  Tr;til — Dead 
Horse*— Mud  ami  Rocks — Terrible  Condition  of  Men  and  Horse* 
— A  Night  Camp— Trail  Closed  until  Repairs  are  Made — Return 
to  Skagway ..64 

CHAPTER  V 

Departure  for  Dyea — Outfit  Destroyed  by  Tide — The  Chilkoot,  or 
Dyea.  Trail — Dyea  River — Qhilkoot  Indians — Trail  Open,  but 
Outfits  Stranded  for  Lack  of  Money  —  The  Leadbetter  Outfit — 
Packers  Selie  Horses 87 

CHAPTER  VI 

Sheep  Camp — Its  Population — Mud  and  Rain — Hotel  Palmer — Sheep 
Camp  to  the  Foot  of  Chilkoot — "Stone  Houses" — Climbing  Chil- 

▼ 


CONTENTS 

koot — Over  ihe  Sum  mil — Delayed  by  Storms — Lake  I-lmleman — 
Boat  Building — Excitement  of  Departures — Lake  Bennett — Sho<n- 
ing  the  Rapids — End  uf  Skagway  Trail Pag*  ^^ 

CHAPTER  VTI  ^ 

Departure  from  Bennett — Storm  on  the  Lake — Klondikers  Wrecked 
and  Drowned— Big  Trout — Custom-House  at  Tagish  Lake — Col- 
lecting Duties  on  Outfits — Will  we  Get  Through  Before  it  Freezes? 
— Ice  in  Lake  Mar^h — The  Canyon  and  White  Horse — Shooting 
the  Rapids — Narrow  Escape—Accidents — Records  on  the  Trees — 
Departure  from  White  Horse — Lake  Labarge — Indian  Village — 
Trading — Thirty-Mile  River — Hootalinqua — Big  Salmon  River — 
Mush  Ice — Little  Salmon  River — Fierce  Trading — Thievish  Ind- 
ians— Refugees  from  Dawson — Five-Finger  Rapids — Starvation? 
—Arrival  at  Fort  Selkirk .     129 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Former  Hudson's  Bay  Post — Present  Alaska  Commercial  Corrspany 
Store — Talks  with  the  Storekeeper — More  about  the  Sht)rtage  of 
Grub— Start  fn)m  Fort  Selkirk — Heavy  Ice — Below  Zero— Miners 
Hauled  Out,  Waiting  for  River  to  Clear — Dangers  t>f  the  Heavy 
Ice— Stewart  River — Accident  in  the  Sweepers— Sixty-Mile  Pi>st 
— **Thi$    is  Dawson" 159 

CHAPTER  IX 

Klondike  "City ** — Dawson — First  Impressions  of  the  Camp^The 
Grub  Scare,  and  Exodus 176 

CHAPTER  X 

Choosinfc  a  Cabin-Site — The  River  Closes — Narrow  Escapes  in  the 
Ice — A  Typical  Miner's  Cabin — House-Building  in  Zero  Weather 
—How  Cold  will  it  be  ? — The  Bonanza  Trail 193 

CHAPTER  XI 

Dn(f«  and  Dog-dri ring— The  Typical  "Malamut" — A  Dog-team 
Equipment — The  Finest  Dog-team  in  the  Klondike     .     .     .     20S 

CHAPTER  XII 

Kinds  of  Gold  Mining— Varieties  of  Gold— Meihotis  of  "Placer" 
Mining—"  Panning"—*'  Raking"- -  Sluicing  "—First  Gold  Min- 
ing in  the  Yukon — **  Bar  Diggings" — Discovery  of  Coarse  Gold 
—Discovery  of  "Burning" — "Summer  Diggings"  and  "Win- 
ter Diggings'* 236 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XIII 

First  View  of  the  Mines — An  Early  Start — Busy  Scene  in  Bonanza 
(^reck — The  Grand  Forks — A  Mirer's  Hotel— First  Impressions 
of  EldoradtJ — Ni^ht  with  a  Miner — How  Does  it  Feel  to  be  a 
"Millionaire"? — What  is  a  Claim  Worth? — Cabin  Life  in  the 
Mines — Peculiarities  of  Old-timers — What  the  Miners  Think  of 
Klondike Pas'  '53 

CHAPTER   XIV 

Story  of  the  Klondike  Discovery  and  the  Stampede  from  Forty-Mile 
and  Circle  City — Who  Discovered  the  Klondike? — Ill-foriune  of 
Robert  Henderson,  the  Discoverer 375 

CHAPTER  XV 

The  Staking;  of  Bonanza — Luck  or  G(xh1  Judgment? — Wild  Scenes 
at  the  First  Clean-up — Large  Pans — How  Eldorado  was  Staked 
and  Sained .     307 

CHAPTER   XV! 

Midwinter — Shonof  Grub— Frontier  Institutions — The  Opera- House 
—Saloons  and  Dance-Halls — A  Gloomy  Christmas — A  Winter's 
Bill  of  Fare — Gold-Dust  as  Money  — Klondike  Hotels — Sickness 
— A  Stranjfe  Funeral — Nt>rthern  Lights — Curious  Effects  of  Snow 
—Women  in  the  Yukon — Yukon  Order  of  Pioneers — First  N'ews 
from  Outside— First  Letters  from  Home — Pat  Galvin — Hard- 
ships alonff  ibe  Trail 330 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Sprinfi^  in  the  Yukon — Last  Dog-Teams  from  Outside — Horde  of 
New-comers  at  the  Head  of  the  River,  Wailing  for  the  Ice  to  Go 
Out — Failure  of  the  Reindeer  Relief  Expedition — Preparing  for 
the  "Boom"— The  **  Clean-up"  Begun— The  Klondike  Breaks 
Loose— Terrific  Force  of  the  Ice— The  Yukon  still  Solid— Will- 
Dawson  be  Washed  Away?— "The  Ice  is  Going  Out"- "Chec- 
hahkos!"- Eggs  a  Dollar  and  a  Half— The  "June  Rise  "—Daw- 
son Under  Water •     • 359 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

Flood  at  Dawson — The  Midnight  Sun — The  New-comers — A  Vast. 
Strange  Throng  —  Miles  of  Boats — Plenty  of  Grub  —  The  Ice- 
Cream  Business  —  New-comers'  Opinion  of  Dawson  —  Disap- 
pointed Men — A  Type  of  Klondiker — Magnitude  of  Preparations 
for  Business  at  St.  Michael — Arrival  of  the  First  Steamer  —  A 

VII 


CONTENTS 

Swell  Dawson  Hotel— First  Steamer  from  the  Lake*— MaRniiuilc 
of  the  Klondike  Stampede /'^iv  372 

CHAPTER   XIX 

Hundreds  of  Miles  of  Claims— Wilt!  Stampedrs— Oold  Tndcr  the 
Yukon — Gold  on  the  Hill-Tops — Fickleness  of  Fortune — The 
"Clean-up"  Begun — lionanza  Creek  in  Summer — A  Clean-up 
00  No.  13  Eldorado — High  Pans  of  Gold— Richest  (iround  in 
Klondike — New-comers'  lit »od- Fortune — French  and  (iold  Hills 
— Toial  Output — Bringing  Down  the  Gold — Values  of  KIon<ltke 
Gold — Banks — Unique  Bank-Check — Improvements  in  Methods 
o(  Mining—*'  King  of  the  Klondike " .    ^M 

•  CHAPTER    XX 

Midsummer  in  Daws<m — Newspapers — How  We  HeanI  the  News  of 
the  War — Fourth  of  July — Variety  Theatres — Rclip^ious  Work — 
Benevolent  Societies — Sickness — Milk  $30  a  Gallon — '*  l»st :  A 
Gold   Sack  - 42a 

-    \  ■        CHAPTER   XXI 

Government  in  the  Klondike — Mining  I^ws — Incompetence  and 
Corruption  of  Otficials — The  Royalty  Tax^-Ctdlccting  the  R<iyal- 
tie*— Investigation  of  Charges — An  Orderly  Mining  Camp.     433 

CHAPTER    XXII 

Vegetation  and  Agricultural  P«>ssibilitics — Animal  Life — Birds — Fish 
—Mosquitoes — Native  Tribes   .     ,     ,  ' +43 

CHAPTER   XXIII 

Last  Steamer  for  St.  Michael— Forty-Mile— "  F^gle  City -—"Star" 
and  "Seventy-Mile  "Cities 455 


APPENDIX .    •    .    .    .    .    .    465 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


rACB 

7*isv  KU>ndikers  (PhotoRraph  by  Wheeler)  ....      Frmnt^ttrt 

'•  lyUIamftte  "  Ltavimf;  Seattle  (Photograph  by  Wilse  and  Kirkc)     .  3 

Author  im  Jlttdson's  Hay  Cvstutm lo 

Pa^k'karsf  and  SLd'^e'dc);  Waiting  to  Board  tk<  SUanur  for  Dyta 

(Photograph  by  Author) 13 

Miners*  Supplies  for  Klondike  (Photograph  by  Author)    ...  21 

y^t* '*/.fAr>r«/*'r*/*' Z?r/«r/«r^  (Photograph  by  Fleming  Bros.)     .  25 
Mommt^d    PoUi€    im    SiahU     Uniform    of    Broxon    Canvoj^    witA 

**//«//t''' /Xyx  (Photograph  by  Author) S9 

Talking  Outjits  (Photograph  by  Author) JO 

Pr0sp«tit^  Millionaires  (Photograph  by  Author) 31 

Skag^Htr^   Two   ifWks  Before  Our  Arriial 33 

Primitive  landing  Paeilities  (Photograph  by  Author)  ....  40 

Miners  Guarding  Outfits  Just  landed  (Photograph  by  .Author)  43 

A  Miner  s  Wife  (Photograph  by  Author) 45 

Landing  Goods  from  Boat  to   Wagon  (Photograph  by  Author)    .  4S 
United   States    Custom'kouse   and  Commissioner's  OfHee^  Skag-way 

(Photograph  by  .\uthor) 51 

Main  Street^  Skagway  (Photograph  by  Author) 53 

**A    Doetor   has    Set    Up   an   Apothecary  Shop**  (Photograph  by 

Author) 55 

A  Leading  Hotel  (Photograph  by  Author) -57 

Ont  Method  of  Packing  Goods  to  ''Foot  of  the  Hiir  (Photograph 

by  Author) 59 

JitstifiakU  Hesitation  (Photograph  by  Author) 6a 

A  ProfitihU  Enterprise  (Photograph  by  Author) 66 

A  Virof  of  Dyea 70 

Paeking  Over  the  Hill  (Photograph  by  Author) 7* 

On  th*  ''Dead  Horse**  Trail  (Dr aw n  by  Chas.   Broughton,  from 

Sketch  by  Author) 75 

Corduroy  Bridge  Across  the  Skagtoay  (Photograph  by  Author)  .  "8 

Am  Hourly  Oeeurrenee  (Photograph  by  Author) 81 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

rACK 

Himf  Omr  Omt/ii  AtUmpuJ  A'    Pack    Timhr  for  a  Boat  Ch,r  the 

Trail  (PhoioKraph  by  Author) 84 

Tk€  S^ttUmtrnt  at  Pyea  (F*hot<>Kraph  by   Author) 8«> 

•*  d«r«v  Xavigation"  (Photograph  by  Author) 93 

Apfroatkimg   tk<    Camrom    of  the    J)ua    Kixur    (Photograph    by 

Author) 96 

Thr  F^d  at  Shftp  Camp  (Photograph  by  Auth«»r) 105 

1%'HghiH^  Paikr  at  Shf^p  Camf  (Photojjraph  by  Author)  .  ,  ,  ivtt 
At  tk€  Foot  of  Chilkoot  Pass     (Photograph  by  Author)     .     .     .Ill 

Lake  LinJeman IlS 

lykip-^aicim^  Boat  J.umbtr  (Phot(»ji(raph  by  Author)  ....  I3I 
Our  Batrau  KtaJy  for  /Mumthim^  (PhotoKri»ph  by  Author)  .  .  123 
A  Lamtukinj^  Btf^lMttf  l.imJ^man  (Photo)frapn  by  Author).     .    125 

Mim^rs  at  Dinmer  (Photoj^raph   by   Author)      . 12S 

Sailimg  D^nvm  I^ke  Bcmmrtt  (Drawn  by  Author) 1 30 

Aitrrirait  Miners  Payimg  CanaJiaM    Customs^utiet   (Photograph 

by  Author) 135 

Ctsstom-komse  at  Tat^isk  am  J  the  Colleetor,  Mr.  Jokm  CoJson  (Photo- 
graph by  Auth«»r) 137 

At  tke  Head  of  the  Camyxm  (Drawn  by  Authoi) 140 

Kmnmimg  the    W'kite  /forse  /Cafids  (Drawn  by  Author).     .     .     .143 
Ckaraeteristie    I'iew    om    If  per     Ymkon    JCiver   (PhtHo^raph    by 

Author) 146 

fae-^mile  of  it  Record  on  a   Tree  at  tke   White  I  forse  Rapids ,     ,   15S 
Tr^Jimg-pcst  at  Fort  Selkirk  lAvkimj^    Towards    Ymkom  from   Site 

0f  Old  Hudson  s  Bar  Company  j  Post  (Photofcraph  by  Author)  160 

Xemrimg  TKtzcson  (Photograph  by  Author) 1^)6 

Tryimff  tff  Land  at  Dawson  (Photf»>{raph  by  Wheeler)  .  ...  173 
Xoad-kause^  Moutk  of  llnnker  Creek  (Photograph  by  Author)    .   175 

A'JifH4A'ir"0>r"  (Photograph  by  Wheeler) 177 

Street  im  Da-u^som  (Photograph  by  Author) 179 

Hauling  Water — Seene  on  the  Main  Street,  /^awsom  (Photograph 

by  Author) ...<...  183 

A  las  km    Commercial   Companrs    Store    and    trarekonses,   uHth    tke 
\artk  American  Transportati<*n  and  Trading  Company's  Stores 

M  tk^  Distance  (Photograph  by  Author) 186 

Tk^  Klondike  in  Summer,   Looking   (f  from  tke    Yukon  (Phottv 

in^ph  by  Author) 194 

Frami   Vievf  of  a    Typical  Miner  t   Cabin   (in    Summer),   SkoTinng 

Oferkaugimg  Front  and  Caeke  (Photograph  by  Author)  .  .  ityi) 
A  Lumker  Team  on  Bonanza  Creek  (Photograph  by  Wheeler)  .  203 
Fraspeeior,  ttntk  Outfit  and  Sled,  in  Front  of  Our  Cabin  (I*hoti>- 

graph  by  Author) 205 

0»  tke ,Bamansa   Trail  (Photograph  by  Author) 206 

Freigkler  (Photograph  by  .\uthor) 207 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

tACM 

A    rrfira/ "  Afti/4tmt$/"  {PhniitifT'dph  by  Author) 2«*> 

ih>g-Uatn    ttm    the     VuioM    {Just    Comf>I,-hM/;   a  joo-mi/t-  Journey) 

(Photoji^raph  by   Wheeler) an 

Ytikon  Shn-f  A'it^i^tJ  /or  SUJ>;c  Joum^  (Sketch   by  .Author).     .  212 

h'ioHi/ik^  /mJiiitt  /h[if  //iirrti'jt  (Sketch   by  .Author) 2l(i 

/'it'  Finrst  JK>!^-t,,tm  on  th^  A'lottJik,-  (l*hott>i(ruph   by  Wheeler)  217 

Fskimtf  /\>t^  /Atritfsi  (Sketch  by  Author) 220 

Hiisktt  Si^ii^h  (Sketch  by  Author) 221 

i>og  Mif,,asiHs  (Sketch  by  Author). 223 

KUfttJike   //nMtiMi^   SHow-skot-   anJ    Trail   Smatt^sko*  (Sketch  by 

Auth<»r) 224 

KU*niiik<    Xni^s^ets — Tw^' thirds    Xatmral  Siu  (Photuf^raph    by 

/  Auth«>r) 228 

••/*«ii»*ri«r<**  (Phoiojjraph  by  Author) 229 

'^*  kackimx"  (Photojcraph  by  Author)   .........  231 

A/akittj^  *  '*  Clitm-tt/'"  /rom  a  AWki-r  (Photo^^raph   by  Author)  .  232 

Fifrty-MiU  (Photo>(raph   by   Wheeler) 230 

Sttirtimj^  a  IfoL-  (Photograph  by  .Author) 242 

Sfiti^m  *f  a  Shaft,   if'i»t,'r  />r/y>iw^  (Sketch  by  Author).     .     .  244 
/Jra/  Flam  *>/  i'r,i-k   Cl4ti>tt,  Showimt^  A'llatiom  ff  Far  Sir^-ak  /«» 

Crr^k  A../ (Sketch  by  Author) 245 

iJ^al  Stf^titm  Sh4ru*imx  //oti>  a  Claim  is  *'  Crt»sf-i-itt'*  (Sketch  by 

Author) i 246 

A  i>timf>.  u^th  a  IVimJlats  Fais^  am  CH^vttrk  (PhotoKraph  by 

j.  B.  Prather) .247 

••/^wr*/*^"  (PhoCt>»fraph  by  Author) 250 

Ca^imt  amJ  Pmmif^s  (Phot«>jjjraph  by  J.  B.  Prather) 254 

ljM>kims(    'Ft^yarJs  th     CramJ  Forks  from    \o.  j    FlJoraJo.      Thr 

r>ark  S/^tfj  tm  fh^  //ill om  th^  /w/t  /mJitaff  J^miastrr's  Fam^ms 

**fiat*k'*  />! i/«»trrr  (Phot«»Kraph  by  J.  B.  Prather)     .     .     .255 
f'#Vft»   a/  FLLfraJif    /jHfkimj^    ('^  fr,fmt    A/^mth   *f  Frrmt'h  Gmlck 

(Phot<^raph  by  J.  B.  Prather)      . 250 

Preparimjiftfr  /fig  /ymmfs  om  FUoraJ^i  Pbotof^raph  by  J.  B,  Prather)  7t*^ 

H'ajh-Jar  (Ph«>toKraph  by  Author) Sfa> 

A  H^fttU   IVimJ^zc  (Sketch  by  Author) 270 

//air-^mttim^  (Sketch  by  Author) 272 

/immpimg  th^  A*/-/^**/ (Photojfraph  by  Author) 274 

Fr0s^ct4frs  im  Cam^  im  Smmm^r  (Photograph  by  Author)     .     .  27*> 

Fah<rt  //fmJ^rsom  (Photo^mph  by  Author) 27S 

M^tk  */  KLfmJike  Fiver  at    Time  0/  thr  Strike^  Chief  /saat't 

SAlm^m  Faek*  (Photograph  by  Scther) 280 

Ceprgt  W.  Carmiaek  (From  Photograph  by  Warren  C.  Wilkin*)  2!*! 
SkocJk u mi  Ji mi  {Yroxn  Photograph  by  Warren  C.  Wilkins).  .  .  2!52 
D%s(0vcry    Claim$,  Bt/mamza   Creek,   Smmimwr  #/  tS(/7  (Photojfraph 

by  Scibcr) 2S5 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

rACs 
The  Stem  0/  Carmack's   Disonery — Diicoxtry  Claim   as   it  Ap- 

femrgJ  im  Am^i^st,  lA^  (FholoKraph  by  Authur)  .  .  .  .  29I 
A    Ttpit*t  CUim  im  EUhraJi) — Summer  of  iSi)y  (Phott)>{raph  by 

Scther) StJS 

Strifpimj^   tkf   Mmk   off  **  Summer    iyii:^ifigs"   (Pholo^raph    by 

Aatbor) 3«>o 

Tjr^cal  Smmmer  Dij^rii^s  {^g  EUoraJo)  (Photograph  by  Author)  >>3 
A  fknrhm  B^SS^ge  Express  (Photoj^raph  by  Hc^jir)  ....  3o<» 
Slmicimg  tke   It'iufer  Dumps  (Ph<»tt»«raph  by  Author)   ....  310 

First  SaLi-em  im  /hi-u>soH  <Photoj;raph  by  Sclher) 313 

•*  H'imter  /hgp'uct""  (Photograph  by  .Author) 319 

I'irte  fr^m  tkr  Bottom  0/  a  '"  Cut"  Summer  /hj^t^ungs  (Xo.  ts  El- 

defradf)  (Phote»xraph  by  .Author) 324 

Ome  MiUi&m   Eixe   Hundred    Thousand  PolUirs    t.     Cold -dust,   in 

X^rtk  Amrriean  I'ranspttrtation  and  V'rading  Company  s  II 'are- 

k^msr  (PbtKotfraph   by   Rt)bcnst»n) 325 

WiUi^m  D.JoMms  on  a  ''Stampede"  (Ph«>to>craph  by  Whcclcr) .   32S 

Opntimg  L'f  a  \ezp  Claim  (Photi>Kraph  by  Author) 32t> 

Ckristm^s  Creetings  (Drawn  by  Authtir) 333 

A  Dw$*m  SaWm  (Phott)Kraph  by  Author) 337 

** //ittimg  fJkr  filo^m^"  Uyring  a  Hill  in  Cold-Just)  (Photojcraph 

by  Author) 343 

••y*i//,"    It'iere  mm  Oyster .jtr:p  Cost  SfJ  (Phoiojjraph    by    l^ 

Roy  Prilcticr) 54^ 

A  Fmrnerml  Pr^essii^m  im  I'h'.osom  (Photojjraph  by   Le  Roy  Pel- 

leticr) 35» 

yf  "/ViV/"  /"tfria  (Sketch  by  Author) 353 

/mJimm  H'^ummm  im  Eaney  1  irka  (Phot<)Kraph  by  Wheeler)  .  .  355 
Badge  #/  Ymktm  Order  of  i'iomeers  (Drawn  by  Author)  .  .  .  356 
A  Tkim  Blatk  Ume  of  Men  Crossing  tke  Summit  of  Ckilk,>ot  Pass  361 
Vmiteel  S/mUs  Gorermmemt  Reindeer  Relief  Expedition— Peer  liar- 

mrss<J  t^  Sleds 3^ 

Ymhm  lee-fL^es  (Ph«>tojfraph  by  Wheeler) -3^ 

Rmft  0f  ll*use    ijogs   em    tke    KUmdike    River   (Photoj^raph    by 

Aothor) 37« 

A  '^Ckeekakk^'s"  S-.nr  (Photograph  by  Author) 373 

A  Mile  mmJ   Tkree-quarters  of  Boats  (Photograph    by   .Author)  .   37s 

Tke  H'sier  Eromt  (Photograph  by  .Author) .     .  37<# 

OmtfiU  F*r  Sale  (Photograph  by  .Author) 3^« 

Maim  Street,  /)a'u'S4m — July,  /S^j  (Photograph  by  .Author). /*/«/'  3S4 
Pam^rmmie  I'ie^*  of  Da'wsom,  Taken  from  tke  M out k  of  tke  Klon- 
dike RiTer— Summer,  t&^ F^mtr  3SS 

Departure  »f  Steamer  for  St.  Miekael  (Photograph  by  .Auth(.r).  391 
^^Beneh"  #r  HiU-side  Claims,  Erenek  Hill,  August,  i&fS  (Photic- 

fiapfa  by  Author) 399 

III 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FAOB 

J^  ami  Btm  Staltyt  Diuorcry  "  Iifn<k  "  Claim  (Photograph  by 

Author) 401 

PmmeramU  Vifu*  of  Bimanut  Cntk  Bttwrrm  Diicn-fry  Cl^itm  amdthf 

l-Wks  of  Bonanza  and  tMoraJo  Cr^^ks,  in  Aii^uyt,  /S>/S,  Tun* 
Ytart  AfUr  tht  Oiutnrrjr  (Photograph  by  Author)    ./a*«V  404 
Arm^riujC  A'/^V*/.  Prfparatcry  to  **  CV<ra«/X^'.«/ "  d'hoioRraph  by 

Author) 405 

"  Cl^amint^.uf"  Smmnur  Divings,  aVo.  j6  EUoraJ^  (Photo|(raph 

by  Author) 407 

A  S5000  CUan-Mp  (PhotoKraph  by  Author) 409 

rK>g  Pofk-irain  Ltaxing  Pau-son  for  th<e  Minrs  (Phutograph  by 

Author) 415 

L^aJimg  Boxa  of  Cold  nfon  thf  Sttiim,-r  for  Ski/^mt-mf  Ottt  (Pholu- 

Kraph  by  Author) 4»9 

P^k-ttam,  lAMidfd  iHtk  Cold,  on  Bonanza  Cri,k  (Photograph  by 

Author) 42"' 

-  l-ji^».i«  Midnight  Sun " 423 

•*  Tkr  Kl^dikf  Sngget^ 424 

Tkr  "  Combination  "    Th.atrf  and  Danct-hall  (Drawn  by  Author)  427 
C^vrrmmntt  BniUingt,   /)au-u*n  — According  Claims  (Photo^^raph 

by  Auihi.r) 434 

Frte  Miner's  l.itense 43^ 

Imtfrixkfd  Moosf-korni  Found  on  Stfvart  A*irrr  (PhtrtoKraph  by 

Author) 445 

/rndtans'  ll'intrr  Enfampmrmt  en  Khndiki  Rivtr  (Photograph  by 

Author) 45" 

Klmdik€  Indians  Going  Aftfr  FalUn  Moosf  (Drawn  by  Author)  452 

Imtrri^  of  Indian  Skin-k^fusf  (Drawn  by  Author) 453 

5*rf,fTwfr— /V^r^rfrr, /.R^  (PhotoKraph  by   Hckk)      .     .     ./«<r/»ir  456 
Map  0f  tkf  Klondiki  and  Indian  A'ivrr  Gotd-Fi,Us   .     .     .      "       45 S 
Maf  of  tkf  Chrrland  HouUs  into  Alaska  and  KUndikt .     .      **       460 
Ratking  CoU  at  Caf>f  Xom^,  Ort.  j,  tSgg  (Photograph  by  Pills- 
bury  jfc  ClcvelanU) 461 


THE  KLONDIKE   STAMPEDE 


CHAPTER  I 

Arrival  ot  ^rr/stW znd  PffrtlamJ  with  Treasure  and  News  of  Great  Strike 
—Excitement  that  KuUoircd.  and  the  Stam|)ede  for  Klondike 

N  the  i6th  of  June,  1897,  the  steamer 
Excelsior^  of  the  Alaska  Commercial 
Company,  steamed  into  the  harbor  of 
San  Francisco  and  came  to  her  dock 
near  the  foot  of  Market  Street.  She 
had  on  board  a  number  of  prospectors 
who  had  wintered  on  the  Yukon  River. 
As  they  walkeil  down  the  gang-plank 
they  staggered  under  a  weight  of  va- 
lises, boxes,  and  bundles.  That  night 
the  news  went  East  over  the  wires,  and  the  following 
inoming  the  local  papers*  printed  the  news  of  the  ar- 

•  The  £xamtHrr  was  practically  "  scooped  "  on  the  first  story. 
gTving  it  only  a  few  lines;  the  CAronu/t'  and  Cai/,  perceiving  its 
■evs  value.  scr\'ed  it  in  the  mcn>t  sensational  manner.  The 
New  York  HirraU  printed  the  Coil's  story  simultaneously.  Mr. 
Hearst,  of  the  New  York  Journal  (and  Examiiifr),  telegraphed 
San  Francisco  to  know  what  was  the  matter,  and  the  next  day 
the  Examiner  plunged  in  to  make  amends  for  its  oversight. 
This  is  the  gossip  in  San  Francisco. 

A  I 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

rival  of  the  Excelsior  with  a  party  of  returned  miners 
and  §750,000  in  jj[old  -  dust,  and  the  sensational  story 
that  the  richest  strike  in  all  American  mining;  history 
had  been  made  the  fall  of  the  year  before  on  Bonanza 
Creek,  a  tributary  of  the  Klondike  River,  a  small  stream 
entering  the  Yukon  not  far  above  the  boundary- line 
between  American  and  Canadian  territory;  that  he 
old  diggings  were  deserted,  that  the  mines  had  been 
partially  worked  that  winter,  and  that  millions  more 
were  in  the  ground  or  awaiting  shipment. 

On  the  17th  the  Port/an J^  of  the  North  American 
Transportation  and  Trading  Company,  arrived  at  Seattle 
with  some  sixty  more  miners  and  some  $800,000  in  gold- 
dust,  confirming  the  report  that  the  new  find  surpassed 
anything  ever  before  found  in  the  world.  The  Seattle 
papers,  equally  alive  to  the  interests  of  their  own  city, 
as  the  outfitting- p*nnt  for  Alaska,  plunged  into  the 
story  with  sensational  iwvy.  If  the  stories  of  wonderful 
fortune  needed  corroboration,  there  were  nuggets  and 
sacks  of  shining  gold  displayed  in  windows  of  shops  and 
hotels.  One  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  dollars*  worth 
of  gold,  brought  by  one  man  from  the  new  diggings,  was 
displayed  in  one  window  in  San  Francisco. 

In  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  the  inhabitants 
of  the  coast  cities  were  beside  themselves  with  excite- 
ment. **  Coast  Again  Gold  Crazy,"  was  the  Eastern  com- 
ment. A  stampede  unequalled  in  history  was  on.  The 
East  could  not  understand  its  significance. 

••The  news  that  the  tcle^jraph  is  bringing  the  past  few  days  of 
the  wonderful  things  of  Klondike,  in  the  land  of  the  midnight 
sun,  has  opened  the  flood-^tes,  and  a  stream  of  humanity  is 
pouring  through  Seattle  and  on  to  the  golden  Mecca  of  the 
north.  It  is  a  crowd  at  once  strange,  weird,  and  picturesque. 
Some  say  it  eclipses  anything  in  the  days  of  '49.     The  good  ship 

■Z 


Si 


.  '  •    » 


EXCITEMENT    IN    THE    EAST 

Portland,  uhich  recently  brought  a  million  and  a  half  of  treasure 
to  this  port,  sail*  for  Alaska  to-morrow  at  noon.  She  will  carry 
every  passenger  and  every  pound  of  cargo  that  she  has  the  ability 
to  transport.  The  /Vr//.»/«</ has  booked  for  this  piissage  fifty  first- 
class  and  ninety-eight  second-class  passengers.  The  names  of  an 
cx-Govemor  and  a  general  are  in  the  list.  Fifteen  hundred  pas- 
sengers arc  booked  for  Alaska  for  the  overland  passage.  Every 
available  steamer  is  full.  The  steamers  Queen,  Afexico,  City  of 
Topekit,  Al'Ki,  in  rotation,  will  sail  by  August  jlh.  to  be  followed 
by  the  Willamette,  City  of  Kint^ston,  and  City  of  S<a/tle,  pressed 
from  service  elsewhere."— Seattle  despatch  of  June  21st. 

The  Excelsior  was  booked  to  its  full  capacity  of  pas- 
sengers, and  ten  times  that  number  of  passengers  were 
turned  away.  From  the  Canadian  ports,  Victoria  and 
Vancouver,  every  steamer  that  could  be  taken  was  pre- 
paring to  deliver  passengers  at  Dyea,  where  the  overland 
route  began. 

Within  a  week  from  the  Excelsior* s  arrival,  the  e.xcite- 
ment  reached  the  East.  Every  source  of  information 
about  Alaska,  or  the  route  to  be  traversed  in  getting 
there  was  besieged  by  hundreds  and  thousands.  The 
United  States  government,  overwhelmed  by  applica- 
tions for  information,  which  it  could  not  supply,  at  once 
despatched  a  trustworthy  man  from  the  Department  of 
Labor  to  the  scene  of  the  new  strike.  The  Canadian 
government  was  better  supplied.  The  rei)orts  of  Mr. 
William  Ogilvie,  who  was  surveying  the  boundary -line 
between  American  and  British  possessions  at  the  time  of 
the  strike,  had  reached  his  government  the  previous  win- 
ter and  spring,  and  the  details  of  the  strike  were  embodied 
in  an  official  report  dated  June  5th.  Anticipating  the 
rush  that  was  certain  to  follow,  and  with  commendable 
zeal,  the  Dominion  Council  had  organized  a  system  of 
government,  including  a  code  of  mining  laws  for  the  new 

5 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

district,  which  was  believed  to  be  underlaid  with  jjold, 
and,  beyond  a  doubt,  was  in  Canadian  territory.  A  land 
surveyor,  with  assistants,  was  despatched  to  assume 
charge  of  the  mines,  while  customs  othcers,  judjjes,  and 
other  officers  of  government,  including  a  military  gov- 
ernor and  a  detachment  of  northwestern  mounted  po- 
lice (to  reinforce  the  handful  already  there),  either  had 
started  or  were  to  start  at  an  earlv  date. 

Every  class  in  the  community  was  affected.  Com- 
panies were  formed  and  stock  offered  to  the  public 
merely  on  the  strength  of  starting  for  the  Klondike. 
Men  threw  up  good  positions  in  banks,  and  under  the 
government ;  others,  with  homes  and  families,  mortgaged 
their  property  and  started  ;  while  those  who  could  not 
command  the  one  to  two  thousand  dollars  considered  as 
the  very  least  necessary  to  success  were  grub- staked  by 
friends  equally  affected  by  the  excitement  but  unable  to 
go  in  person.  The  newspapers  were  tilled  with  advice,  in- 
formation, stories  of  hardship  and  of  g<M)d  ft)rtune  ;  but 
not  one  in  ten,or  a  hundred,  knew  what  the  journey  meant 
nor  heeded  the  voice  of  warning.  "  There  are  but  few 
sane  men,"  says  one,  **  who  would  delil>erateiy  set  out  to 
make  an  Arctic  trip  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  yet  this  is  ex- 
actly what  those  who  now  start  for  the  Klondike  are 
doing.**    And  this: 

-TIME  TO  CALL  A  HALT 

ONLY    A    FEW    WILL    BE    AHLE   TO    RKACH    I>AW>ON 

THIS   VKAR" 

And  another: 

-WINTER  WILL  SOON   SET   IN   THERE 

SUFFERING    SEEMS    INEVITABLE 

iyA4Mf  GoU'S^fJters  Must  Endure— Thar  Chief  FiHui  in  Winter 
is  Brar-Fat,  and  a  Bath  or  a  Cha$t^€  of  Clothing  is  Death." 

6 


NEWSPAPER    ACCOUNT    OF    KLONDIKE 

The  following  actual  newspaper  account  probably  sur- 
passes anything;  ever  written  or  toUl  of  the  new  country. 
It  is  entirely  a  fabrication  of  a  returned  Klondiker,  but 
its  wide  circulation  illustrates  the  credulity  of  the  yjold- 
crazed  public : 

"THOUSANDS  STARVE  IN  THE   KLONDIKE 

ALMOST  2O0O  CRAVES  MADE   IS  THREE   VEARS 

Hardships  Gr^at  to  Bear 

Steamship  Companies  Control    Food    Supply    and    Allow   no 

Private  Importations 

"Great  Fam.s»  Montana.////!*  23.— Frank  Moss,  an  old-timer 
of  this  section,  who  four  years  aj^o  was  one  of  a  jxirty  of  four 
Americans  first  to  visit  the  Klondike  country,  returned  to-day. 
and  tells  a  story  of  horrors  and  starvation  seldom  equalled  even 
in  modern  novels. 

••  He  describes  Klondike  as  a  placer  camp,  seven  miles  lonjj  and 
thirteen  miles  wide,  situated  in  a  sink  and  walled  in  by  bowlders 
of  rock  three  thousand  feet  high. 

••  Gold,  he  siiys  abounds,  but  no  ordinary  man  can  stand  the 
hardships  of  the  uncivilized  region.  When  Moss  left  here  four 
years  ago  he  was  a  sturdy  fellow  more  than  six  feet  tall.  From 
hardships  and  privations  he  is  a  cripple  for  life  and  badly  broken 
in  health.  In  three  years  he  saw  more  than  two  th(iusiind  graves 
made  in  the  Klondike  basin,  a  large  majority  dying  from  siar\a- 
lion. 

••The  steamship  companies  bring  in  all  the  food  and  allow  no 
private  importations;  consequently  it  is  not  uncommon  to  go  for 
weeks  with  but  a  scant  supply,  and  for  days  entirely  without  any 
food. 

"  The  gold  brought  in  last  week  to  Seattle.  Moss  says,  does  not 
represent  the  findings  of  individual  shippers,  but  a  large  propor- 
tion was  confiscated  from  the  effects  of  those  two  thousand 
miners  who  fell  a  prey  to  the  hardships.     At  the  death  of  a  man 

7 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

possessed  of  dust  his  body  was  buried  without  a  coffin,  and  the 
dust  divided  among  those  who  cared  for  him.  With  proper  re- 
liefs established  by  the  government.  Moss  says,  gold  could  be  taken 
out  at  the  rate  of  $2,000,000  a  month. 

••The  richest  strike  has  been  made  by  a  boy  twenty-one  years 
old,  named  George  Hornblower,  of  Indianapolis.  In  the  heart  of 
a  barren  waste,  known  as  Ik>wldcr  Field,  he  found  a  nugget  for 
which  the  transportation  companies  gave  him  S5700.  He  located 
bis  claim  at  the  find,  and  in  four  months  had  taken  out  more  than 
$1,000,000. 

"The  richest  section,  he  says,  is  yet  undeveloped.  It  is  one 
hundred  miles  from  Klondike,  and  is  known  as  the  Klack  Hole 
o(  Calcutta.  It  is  inhabited  by  ex  convicts  of  Ik>hemia.  and  mur- 
ders and  riots  take  the  place  of  law  and  order. 

"A  few^  months  ago,  Klondike  organized  a  justice  committee, 
and  its  laws  prevail  ther^  now. 

-Suffering  will  be  great,  with  the  great  crowds  preparing  to  go 
to  the  scene  now.  Moss  says:  hunger  and  suffering  will  be  great 
when  added  to  the  other  hardships  to  be  overcome  by  those  who 
survive.  Moss  returned  with  §6000  in  dust,  and  will  leave  here 
to-morrow  for  his  old  home  in  Dubuque.  Iowa,  where  he  will 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  years." 

The  Canadian  government  published  a  warning  that 
all  who  were  starting  faced  starvation,  and  should  wait 
till  spring;  that  shelters  would  be  built  on  the  way,  but 
food  could  nt)t  be  supplied  to  thi>se  going  in  unpre- 
pared. 

On  the  26th  of  July  the  London  Timis  gave  full  par- 
ticulars of  the  strike:  on  the  28th  the  Colonial  Office  is- 
sued a  bulletin  advising  Englishmen  not  to  start,  but 
to  wait  till  spring. 

The  tide  was  too  great  to  turn.  One  by  one  the  con- 
servative papers  of  the  country,  that  had  treated  the  first 
reports  as  sensational  news,  fell  into  line.  On  the  28th 
of  July  the  Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers  commissioned  a 

a 


THE  AUTHOR  STARTS   FOR   KLONDIKE 

correspondent  to  proceed  to  Dawson  to  furnish  news  and 
pictures  of  the  new  g^old-fields.* 

I,  the  one  chosen  for  this  work,  s|>ent  the  next  three 
days  gettinjj  t<»gether  that  part  i»f  a  one  year's  outfit  that 
could  not  be  obtained  on  the  West  Coast,  includinij  a  com- 
plete photojjraphic  outfit,  comprising  a  5  x  7  long-focus 
Premo  camera;  ten  dozen  5x7  cut  films  for  use  in  plate- 
holders  (having  the  advantage  of  lightness  and  unbreak- 
ableness) ;  and  eight  spools  of  sensitive  film,  of  thirty- 
two  exposures  each,  for  use  in  a  roll-holder,  and  expressly 
ordered  hermetically  sealed  in  tins;  in  addition,  a  small 
pocket  Kodak,  taking  lA  x  2-inch  pictures,  together  with 
a  complete  developing  outfit.  Glass  plates  were  not  taken, 
on  account  of  weight  and  their  liability  to  break  in  the 
mail. 

On  the  30th  of  July  I  purchased,  at  the  office  of  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway  in  New  York,  a  through /r/ii/<v/ 
ticket  reading  **New  York  to  D/ea,"  including  passage 
on  the  steamer  /y/i/Wrr,  scheduled  to  leave  Victoria  on 
the  15th  of  August,  on  her  second  trip. 

By  this  time  reports  had  arrived  of  an  easier  pass,  only 
four  miles  from  Dyea,  and  known  as  the  White  Pass,  with 
trail  already  constructed  and  parties  with  pack-horses 
and  outfits  going  over  with  ease  to  the  head  of  naviga- 
tion on  the  Yukon,  where  boats  were  to  be  built.  At 
Montreal  I  secured,  by  telegraph,  space  on  the  Isliinihr 
for  six  pack-horses.  At  Winnipeg  I  hurried  to  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company's  store  for  winter  clothes  and 
furs,  but  the  town  was  already  cleaneil  out,  not  a  fur 
robe  nor  skin  coat  to  be  had.    Instead — and  fearing  that 

•  After  my  departure  arrangement  was  made  by  Messrs.  Harper 
h  Brothers  with  the  Lond»>n  Lhroniil^  for  simultaneous  pubii- 
cation  of  the  matter  to  be  furnished. 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

nothing  of  the  kind  suitable  for  the  arctic  ch'mate  would 
by  this  time  be  left  on  the  Coast — I  j;ot  the  regulation 
capote  of  the  employes  of  the  Company,  made  of  the 
heaviest  black  duffel  reaching  to  the  knees  and  with  a 
hood;  also  twelve-pound  "four-point  "////Tt/ blankets;  a 
variegated  yarn  sash,  such  as  is  worn  by  the  Northwest 
metis ;  a  red-and-black  knit  tuque ;  and  the  best  moose- 
hide  moccasins;  leaving  the  rest  of  my  outfit  to  be  pur- 
chased in  Victoria,  which  I  reached  on  August  8th. 


AUTHOR  IN   HinsON  S  BAY  COSTIMR 


CHAPTER    II 


Outfitting  in  Victoria^ — Departure — Incidenl>  on  the  Steamer — Prepara- 
tions for  Landing  at  Skagway 

VicTtmiA,  B.  C,  August  15,  1S97. 

j^TT^  HE  streets  of  leisurely  Victoria  are 
thronged  with  strange  men,  and 
there  is  an  earnest  look  on  their 
faces  and  firmness  in  their  step. 
When  the  sealers  return  each 
autumn  there  is  another  crowd, 
but  not  like  this.  Victoria  has 
never  seen  this  crowd  before.  They  are  the  kind  of 
men  who  are  the  pioneers  in  every  new  country  ;  men 
from  ever>'  station  of  life,  but  all  of  one  mind,  actuated 
by  one  purpose.  They  are  buying  horses,  and  watching 
men  who  in  front  of  stores  explain  the  "diamond  hitch"; 
they  are  buying  thick,  warm  W(H)llens ;  belts  that  go 
around  the  waist,  with  fla|>s  that  button  down  over  lit- 
tle compartments ;  little  bags  of  buckskin,  with  gath- 
ering-strings at  the  top  ;  heavy,  iron-shod  shoes,  made 
in  the  likeness  of  nothing  in  the  heavens  above  or  the 
earth  beneath,  but  strong,  durable,  and  suited  for  the 
purpose  in  view;  and  moccasins  of  moose- hide,  with  socks 
as  thick  as  a  man's  hand  and  that  reach  to  the  knee. 

The  crowd  is  cosmopolitan.  It  has  gathered  from  re- 
mote points.  There  are  Scotch  and  Irish,  French  and 
German,  together   with   plain  American.     Klondike ! — 

II 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

magic  word,  that  is  possessing  men  st>  that  they  think  and 
talk  of  nothing  else.  Victoria  sells  mittens  and  hats  and 
coats  only  for  Klondike.  Flour  and  bacon,  tea  and  cof- 
fee, are  sold  only  for  Klondike.  Shoes  and  siuldlcs  and 
boats, shovels  and  s;icks — everything  for  Klondike.  The 
man  who  is  not  going  by  next  boat  for  the  North,  or  who 
IS  not  "waiting  till  spring,"  or  who  has  not  tlecided  rea- 
sons for  not  going  at  all  and  why  every  one  else  should 
not  go,  must  be  a  rarity.  He  does  not  e.xist  in  this  town, 
so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  discover  in  one  week's  time. 
Even  in  the  sings<^ng  of  the  Chinaman  the  ear  will  catch 
the  sound  **  Klondike."  Roys  who  at  other  times  might 
be  impudent,  now,  with  a  KK>k  of  wonder,  i>oint  and  say, 
**  He's  going  to  Klondike  !"  It's  a  distinction  to  be  a 
Klondiker. 

Even  here  the  bigness  of  the  undertaking  is  realized. 
A  dozen  men  have  graspeti  me  by  the  hand  and  said :  "  I 
wish  you  success.  Any  one  who  has  the  courage  to  start 
there  deserves  every  bit.'*  It  may  be  a  business  man,  an 
e<!itor,or  the  man  who  stands  at  your  back  at  the  hotel 
table.  AH  are  alike  interested  ;  all  who  could  have  gt>ne 
with  the  first  rush,  and  those  who  can  are  going  "  in  the 
spring."  They  doubt  if  one  can  get  in  now  before  it 
freezes  tight  ;  and  they  may  be  right  when  they  say  that 
hundreds,  if  not  thousands,  of  men  with  their  outfits  at 
the  Chilkoot  and  White  passes  will  camp  there  all  win- 
ter, unable  to  get  across. 

Victoria  is  awakening  to  the  realization  t)f  a  fact — a 
blunt,  hard,  yet  agreeable  fact.  Circle  City  and  Juneau, 
where  the  gold  has  hitherto  been  mined,  are  in  Ameri- 
can territory,  and  so  Seattle  has  practically  monopolized 
the  Alaska  outfitting  business.  But  Klondike  River  is 
in  Canadian  territory,  and  Canadian  laws  apply  to  the 
remotest  comer  of   the   Dominion,  and   every  miner's 

12 


OUTFITTING    IN    VICTORIA 

outfit  that  goes  across  the  Ixjundary  -  line,  no  matter 
where,  owes  a  dutv.  Why,  then,  should  not  Victoria  and 
Vancouver  do  the  business  for  Klondike,  and  thereby 
save  the  miners  the  duties?  Si>me  witle-awake  business 
men  answered  the  question  by  at  once  despatching  a 


pack-iiornk  and  MjLiii;ft.-iH>«;  waitim;  tu  kiiari>  tuk  stkamkk  h»r 

I>VR.\ 

man  to  Seattle  to  purchase  an  outfit  and  to  ascertain 
the  prices. 

A  miner  intending  to  go  to  Klondike  has  the  alterna- 
tive of  buying  on  the  American  side  and  paying  duty, 
or  of  buying  here.  Government,  we  are  told,  has  been 
established,  and  I  am  assured  by  the  collector  of  this 
port,  Mr.  Milne,  that  should  miners  prefer  to  bring  their 
outfits  across  the  line  they  will  be  accorded  precisely  the 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

same  treatment  at  Dawson  or  Tagish  Lake  (just  over 
the  pass  —  the  officers  left  here  two  weeks  ago)  as  in 
Victoria  or  Montreal.  **  There  is  but  one  law  for  every 
part  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada.  We  do  not  want  to 
be  severely  strict  with  the  miners,  but  you  know  how 
much  easier  it  is  to  relax  than  to  tighten."  It  is  going 
hard  with  those  American  cities  which  have  hitherto 
had  the  whole  business  of  outfitting,  but  it  should  be 
home  in  mind  that  the  ne.xt  news  may  be  of  bigger 
finds  on  American  soil.  Events  are  moving  in  such 
rapid  succession  that  it  is  simply  bewildering,  and  one 
rubs  one's  eyes  to  make  sure  that  it  is  not  all  a  pleas- 
ant dream.  Familiar  spots  and  even  old  friends  have 
the  same  unreal  look. 

What  does  it  mean?  Some  men  have  been  digging 
with  shovels  into  the  earth  and  filling  large  pans,  arid 
with  water  washing  off  the  lighter  material,  leaving  some 
heavy  yellow  metal  which,  when  gathered  in  bags  and  old 
coats,  made  a  load  that  several  men  could  not  lift.  This 
came  down  from  there  three  or  four  weeks  ago.  Now 
vessels  and  men  and  horses  and  dogs  are  set  in  violent 
motion  in  the  direction  whence  it  came.  Surelv,  that  is 
a  strange  power  the  yellow  metal  has  ! 

One  who  has  never  undertaken  to  gather  all  that  a 
man  will  need  for  a  space  of  ten  or  twelve  months,  so 
that  he  shall  not  have  to  call  on  any  one  else  for  material 
assistance,  has  any  idea  of  the  time  required.  The  most 
important  item  on  the  list  is  good  advice — plenty  of  it. 
One  does  not  fully  comprehend  the  helplessness  of  aver- 
age mankind  until  he  meets  some  of  these  men  on  the 
streets.  Scores  of  men  would  never  have  gotten  one 
inch  to  the  northward  of  the  town  of  Victoria  without 
the  help  of  others.  Two  men  in  three  virtually  are  car- 
ried  along  by  the  odd  man.     They  are  without  practical 


SOME    QUEER    OUTFITS 

experience;  it  is  pitiful  to  see  them  groping  like  the 
blind,  trying  to  do  this  thing  or  that,  having  no  notion 
of  what  it  is  to  plan  and  to  have  the  ends  fit  like  a  dove- 
tail. I  asked  a  Frenchman  from  Detroit  how  he  meant 
to  get  over  the  pass — was  he  taking  a  horse  ?  **Oh  no; 
there  would  be  some  way."  And  yet  he  knew  that 
every  returning  steamer  is  bringing  word  like  this, 
which  is  from  a  recent  private  letter  from  Dyea  to  a 
large  outfitter : 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  if  you  have  any  influence  to  prevent  it, 
do  not  let  any  one  come  here  without  horses;  hundreds  of  peo- 
ple will  be  encamped  here  all  winter,  unable  to  get  across." 

Some  queer  outfits  have  gone  north  in  the  last  few 
days.  One  man,  evidently  a  person  of  means  as  well  as 
leisure,  has  taken,  among  other  things,  one  case  of  thirty- 
two  pairs  of  moccasins,  one  case  of  pi|>es,  one  case  of 
shoes,  two  Irish  setters,  a  bull  pup,  and  a  lawn-tennis  set, 
I  am  told  he  is  not  a  trader,  but  going  **  just  for  a  jolly 
good  time,  you  know."  Another  man  is  taking  an  enor- 
mous ox,  and  he  created  a  sensation  leading  it  through 
town  with  a  pack-saddle  on  its  back.  He  intends  to  eat 
it.  Wise  man !  Some  say  we  shall  have  to  eat  our 
horses. 

Knock-down  boats  of  every  conceivable  sort  are  being 
taken  up  since  the  reports  have  come  down  that  boat 
timber  is  very  scarce,  as  well  as  high  in  price. 

I  have  had  cut  out,  from  my  own  plans,  the  ribs  and 
sides  of  a  lumberman's  bateau  twenty -three  feet  long, 
five  feet  beam,  eighteen  inches  width  on  the  bottom, 
five  and  a  half  feet  overhang  in  front,  and  four  feet 
at  the  stern,  the  bottom  being  of  three  -  quarter  inch 
cedar,  the  sides  of  five-eighth  and  one-half  inch  stuff. 
It  is,  in  fact,  an  extreme  type  of  dory,  a  perfect  rough- 
's 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

water  boat,  its  flaring  sides  preventing  the  boarding  of 
waves,  its  narrow  tx)ttom  enabling  it  to  pass  through  a 
narrow  channel.  It  is  easily  handled  with  either  pole 
paddles,  or  oars.  I  have  roughly  calculated  that  one  ton 
will  sink  it  a  foot.  Its  actual  load  will  be  less.  But  re- 
ports are  discouraging  about  boats.  The  trails  up  the 
mountains  are  rep<:)rted  so  narrow  and  tortuous  that  long 
pieces  cannot  be  carried  over.  In  that  case  I  can  cut 
the  lumber  into  sections.  It  may  never  get  over.  Hun- 
dreds of  boats,  it  is  said,  are  being  left  behind.  News  is 
contradictory,  when  it  is  to  be  had  at  all.  It  is  unsafe  to 
leave  any  precaution  untaken.  The  same  rule  applies  to 
horses.  No  one  here  for  a  moment  says  I  have  too 
many,  though  I  have  more  for  the  amount  to  be  carried 
than  any  other  outfit  that  has  left  Victoria  thus  far. 
One  outfit  of  seventy-four  horses  is  going  up  from  here 
to  carry  goods  for  the  mounted  police. 

According  to  the  Coast  papers  that  have  correspond- 
ents on  the  scene,  hope  of  getting  over  vin  Chilkoot  is 
slight.  The  baggage  of  over  three  thousand  ahead  of 
us  is  stranded  at  Dyea,  unable  to  be  handled  by  the  pack- 
ers, and  all  who  can  are  starting  over  White  Pass. 

D>'ea  has  k)een  made  a  sub-jx^rt  of  Juneau,  for  the  con- 
venience of  foreign  vessels;  our  gmxlsare  billed  **I)yca,** 
but  will  go  off  at  Skagway. 

THE    ROrXE.S  TO-DAY 

1.  Via  St,  Michael.  Ocean  steamer  to  St.  Michael,  a  distance 
of  2725  miles  (from  Seattle);  transferring  to  flat-bottomed  river- 
steamers  up  the  Yukon  River,  a  distance  to  Dawson  variously 
estimated  at  from  1298  miles  to  1600  or  1700  miles;  the  "easiest  " 
route,  but  restricted  for  river  navigation  to  the  period  from  June 
to  September. 

2.  Via  Lynn  Canal.    Two  routes,  viz..  (*i).  the  Chilkoot  trail. 

16 


ROUTES    TO    KLONDIKE 

From  Dyea  over  Chilkoot  Pass.  27  miles  to  Lake  Lindeman.  head 
of  navigation  of  Lewes  River,  a  main  tributary  of  the  Yukon,  and 
575  miles  to  Dawson  ;  the  trail  used  for  the  past  sixteen  years  by 
miners  entering  the  Yukon.  Freight  is  carried  by  hand,  but 
horses  are  used  as  far  as  the  foot  of  the  jxiss.  18  miles  from  Dyea. 
Elevation  of  pass  about  3350  feet.  (A),  The  White  I*ass  trail.  Dis- 
covered by  Captain  William  Moore  ten  years  ago.  Starts  four 
miles  from  Dyea,  ascending  valley  of  Skagway  Kiver  over  pass. 
2800  feel  elevation,  and  20  miles  distant  from  saltwater.  Beyond 
the  summit  not  really  known,  but  leading  to  one  of  two  arms  t>f 
Tagish  L;ike.  Distance  said  to  be  not  much  greater  than  vt\t 
Chilkoot.  Vigorously  advertised  during  the  past  two  weeks  as 
a  good  horse  trail  all  the  way. 

3.  Dalton's  trail.  0\-erland  from  head  of  Pyramid  Harbor. 
via  Chilcat  Pass,  thence  over  rolling  grassy  country  to  point  on 
Lewes,  near  Five-Finger  Rapids,  and  to  Fort  Selkirk,  the  latter  a 
distance  of  350  miles  from  tide-water,  and  175  miles  from  Daw- 
son. Available  for  cattle  and  horses,  and  for  a  railroad.  Named 
after  its  discoverer.  John  Dalton.  a  trader. 

4.  Stikecn  route.  Starting  from  Fori  Wrangell.  thence  up  the 
Stikeen  Kiver,  a  distance  of  about  150  miles  to  Telegraph  City 
(an  old  mining  camp).  From  thence  overland  to  head  of  Lake 
Teslin,  head  of  Hoolalinqua,  or  Teslinlo.  Ri%er.  a  tributary  of 
the  Lewes;  a  distance  to  Teslin  of  122  to  160  miles.  None  of 
the  new  maps  agree  where  the  trail  is,  but  the  route  is  being 
pushed  by  the  Canadian  government  as  an  all-Canadian  route  to 
the  Klondike,  A  company  has  chartered  the  only  steamer  avail- 
able at  Wrangell  and  is  taking  over  saw-mill  machinery,  buihl- 
ing  steamers,  and  preparing  for  the  spring  "  rush  **  that  way. 

^Vi'a  Edmonton,  By  courtesy  designated  a  "trail."  The  in- 
sane desire  of  Canada  to  find  an  all-Canadian  route  to  her  new 
possessions  has  led  to  the  suggestion  as  possible  routes  those 
used  by  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  to  reach  the  Yukon.  From 
Edmonton  a  wagon -road  of  96  miles  to  Athabasca  Landing; 
thence  by  small  boat.  430  miles,  to  Lake  Athabasca  ;  thence  down 
Slave  River,  across  Great  Slave  Lake,  and  down  the  Mackenzie 
River.  1376  miles,  to  the  neighborhoo<i  of  Fort  McPherson,  near 
B  17 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  mouth  of  the  Mackenzie ;  thence  up  Rat  River  and  over  an  all- 
water  connection  at  McDougall's  Pass  into  the  Porcupine:  and 
thence  down  the  F'orcupine  to  the  Yukon.  4(^6  miles— a  total  dis- 
tance from  Edmonton  of  2398  miles  (Mr.  William  Oj^ilvie's  fig- 
ures). There  the  would-be  Klonilikcr.  303  miles  below  Dawson 
and  against  a  hard  current,  is  practically  farther  away  from  his 
destination  than  if  at  Oyea  or  Skagway. 

The  other  "route"  from  Edmonton  ascends  the  Athabasca 
River  to  Little  Slave  Lake;  thence  by  portage  to  Peace  River; 
ascends  that  river  to  a  pwint  towards  its  source  ;  thence  overland 
by  a  ramification  of  ••  routes  "  to  the  Liard ;  up  that  river  and  thence 
by  another  portage  to  the  head  of  the  I*clly.and  down  that  river 
to  Fort  Selkirk;  an  exceedingly  dilficult  trail,  abandoned  forty 
years  ago  by  the  company  that  first  discovered  its  existence. 

The  abtne  briefly  describes  the  "trails"*  by  which  the  Cana- 
dians, the  merchants  of  Edmonton,  and  the  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 
way propose  to  start  human  beings  for  the  Yukon.  It  has  been 
termed  **the  Athabasca  back-door  route."  By  the  same  token 
there  are  as  many  other  "routes**  to  the  Yukon  as  there  are 
water-ways  in  the  northwest  of  Canada  between  Montreal  and 
the  Rocky  Mountains. 

The  horses,  alleged  to  be  pack-horses,  that  are  being 
brought  into  Victoria  for  sale  amUse  every  one  greatly. 
There  are  ambulating  bone-yards,  the  infirm  and  decrep- 
it, those  afflicted  with  spavin  and  spring-halt,  and  many 
with  ribs  like  the  sides  of  a  whiskey-cask  and  hips  to  hang 
hats  on.  With  their  drcx^ping  heads  and  listless  tails, 
they  are  pictures  of  misery.  Yet  they  are  l>eing  bought 
to  pack  over  the  hardest  kind  of  trail.  Why,  some  of 
them  at  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  wharf  lt>ok  as  if  a 
good  feed  of  oats  would  either  break  their  backs  or  make 
them  sag  beyond  remedy,  while  their  legs  seem  barely 
able  to  support  their  bodies.  They  are  brought  in  from 
all  quarters  of  Vancouver  Island  and  the  mainland.  Till 
now  they  have  been  without  value  or  price.     Twenty- 

l8_ 


OUTFITTING    AT    VICTORIA 

five  tiollars  up  is  the  ins'ariable  price  asked,  and  it  is 
ludicrous  to  see  s<»me  of  their  owners,  who  a  month  ago 
would  have  fainteil  in  their  tracks  at  the  sight  of  five 
dollars,  now,  when  you  ask  the  price,  shift  alK)ut,  swallow 
once  or  twice,  and  say,  '*  Twenty-five  dollars."  "  Thirty 
dollars  **  means  that  the  owner  has  a  pretty  fair  horse, 
probably  an  oM  packer  ;  but  "twenty-five"  dollars  now 
in  Victoria  means  that  much  clear  profit,  and  they  have 
plenty  of  takers.  The  pack-satldles  are  five  tt>  six  dol- 
lars, without  the  lash-rojH-'S,  but  with  the  extra  cinch. 
In  front  of  the  saddlery  -  stores  groups  of  intending 
miners  watch  some  old-timer  explaining  the  mysteries 
of  the  **diam*»n<l  hitch."  A  man  is  a  tenderfoot  out  here 
until  he  can  throw  the  diamond  hitch,  the  only  hitch 
that  will  hold  the  load  on  a  horse's  back.  The  "s<|uaw 
hitch,"  however,  does  for  side  packs  and  is  simple. 

It  is  rare  amusement  to  a  tenderf<H>t,  getting  together 
a  pack-train.  A  little  knowledge  of  horses  helps,  but  I 
suppose  one  should  not  expect  t«H>  much.  As  long  as  one's 
pack-train  looks  positively  no  worse  than  one's  neighbor's 
he  dt>es  not  mincL  Although  he  may  have  a  spotted  cay- 
use  as  big  as  a  sheep  alongside  a  fifteen-hand  rawlK)ned 
r(»an  mare,  no  one  is  expected  to  do  any  l>etter  with  the 
time  and  material  at  command.  Victorians  l)elieve  that 
next  spring  there  will  be  a  wh«  >lly  better  lot  of  horses  ;  they 
do  not  believe  the  present  supply  of  wrecks  will  last  any 
longer.  My  packers  consist  of  a  black  with  a  bone-spavin 
which  causes  him  to  throw  his  leg  crossways  when  he 
trots;  his  mate  is  a  small  bay  |)ony,  narrow  -  chestetl  ; 
then  there  is  a  white-faced  "pinto,"  a  large  roan  mare, 
and  a  bully  little  packer  nearly  two'  feet  lower  than  the 
old  roan.  Her  name  is  Nelly,  the  only  name  I  could 
get  of  any  of  my  horses.  The  sixth  one  is  a  nonde- 
script— just  a  thin  sorrel  horse.     They  make  a  brave 

«9 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

show  with  their  new  pack-sadilles  and  coils  of  new  lash- 
ropes. 

How  to  handle  this  formidable  ••utfit  was  a  question, 
until  I  ran  afoul  nf  two  fellows  bound  also  for  Dawson. 
I  met  them  on  the  train  over  and  sized  them  up.  They 
were  with  a  continjjent  from  Detroit.  Jim  Mi  Carron  had 
been  a  tnH:>per  in  the  Seventh  Unitetl  States  Cavalry,  and 
younjj  Burj^hardt  was  travellini:^  on  his  ability  to  c»h>Ic, 
being  the  son  of  a  baker  and  a  bak:?r  himself.  Jim  was 
used  to  handlinjj  horses,  though  he  <lid  not  pretend  to 
know  how  to  pack  any  more  than  I  did. 

Burjjhardt  did  claim  he  could  bake  bread.  I  asked  him 
if  he  thought  we  were  going  to  live  on  nothing  but  bread. 
These  two  men  were  able  to  take  but  one  horse  each. 
These  they  b*»ught  in  Victoria.  Then  we  joined  forces 
for  Klondike  on  the  following  c«>ndiiions :  they  were  to 
take  entire  charge  of  my  horses,  and  were  to  undertake 
to  put  my  whole  outfit  across  the  [>as>  first,  so  as  to  leave 
me  as  free  as  p»»ssible  for  my  newsjxaper  work.  Then, 
while  I  put  together  my  boat,  and  an«>ther  for  them,  the 
lumber  for  which  they  were  taking  up  from  here,  they  were 
to  take  the  whole  eight  ht>rses  and  pack  their  own  outfits 
over.  With  them  was  a  Dutchman,  large,  thick,  slow,  but 
strong  as  a  ht>rse,  and  with  one  eye.  He  had  a  horse  to<», 
but  it  was  not  part  of  my  outfit. 

In  the  way  of  food  supplies,  the  dealers  here  have  long 
lists  of  canned  goods  from  which  all  tastes  can  be  suited. 
But  I  intend  t<»  stick  as  closely  as  pi»ssible  to  the  merest 
essentials,  Lumliermen  know  what  a  man  can  live  and. 
grr»w  fat  on  out-of-d«>ors,  and  so  d«»es  the  Unite<l  States 
army.  There  is  something  about  p'irk,  flour,  beans,  and 
tea  that  makes  it  easy  to  add  the  rest.  As  to  clothing, 
rubber  hip-boots  and  an  oil-skin  c*xit  are  necessary.  For 
the  long,  cx>ld  winter,  misapprehension  exists.    Those  best 

20 


WHAT    A    KLOXDIKER    NEEDS 

qualifieil  to  express  an  opinion  say  that  there  is  nothinj^ 
better  than  a  deer-skin  coat  with  hood — an  Eskimi^  jjar- 
ment,  called  a/</r/vi.  Then,  one  should  have  a  fur  r<»be; 
one  gooil  toIh?  is  letter  than  any  number  of  blankets, 
and  should  be  7x8  feet.  In  the  order  of  preference, 
arctic  hare  is  first.     Next  is  white  rabbit,  the  skins  l)einjj 


MINER!»    Sl'l>PUE2»   WAITING   TO   KE   LO.VDttt   KuR    KLoMUkK 


cut  into  Strips,  then  plaited  and  sewed  together.  One 
needs  nothing  else  in  the  coldest  weather,  although  t)nc 
can  thrust  one's  fingers  through  it.  Ik>th  rabbit  and 
hare  robes  are  scarce  and  last  only  a  year.  Lynx,  fox, 
wolf,  marmot,  make  good  rol)es ;  bear  is  alino>t  t<H>  heavy 
for  travelling.  I  was  fortunate  indeed  to  pick  up  even  a 
marmot-skin  robe, eight  feet  long  and  five  wide,  lined  with 
a  blanket,  Indian-made,  from  somewhere  up  the  coast. 
The  following  are  the  goods  commonly  taken  in  by 

21 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

miners.     The  list  inchules  several  articles  of  which  it  is 
only  necessary  to  have  one  in  each  party  : 

SUPPLIES  FOR  ONK  MAN  FOR  ONE  YEAR 


8  sacksi  Flour  (50  Ib!>.  each), 
150  \\ys.  tiacon. 
150  lb».  Split  rease. 
loo  lbs.  Ikans. 

2S  n>s.  tva|x)ratctl  Apples. 

35  lb».  Kvajioratetl  Tcacho. 

25  W^^  AprioHs. 

35  IIkk  Butter, 
loo  ltK».  Granulatetl  Su^ar. 

I^diu.  CondcnM^l  Milk. 

15  lbs.  Coffee. 

ID  lb*.  Tea. 
I  lb.  Pq^per. 

lo  lbs.  Salt. 
8  lbs.  liaktn^  Powder. 

40  lbs.  RoUeU  Oat!». 

3  doz.  Yea>t  Cakes. 

4  do/.  4MW.  Beef  Kxtract. 

5  bars  C'a>tile  Siap. 
b  bars  Tar  Soap. 

I  tin  Matches. 

I  gal.  Vinej^ar. 

I  box  Camllcs. 
25  llis.  Kvaporated  Pittatoes. 
35  IIjs,  kicx. 
35  Canvas  .Sacks. 

I  Wanh-Ba^in. 

I  Metlivine-Chcst. 

I  Rubber  Sheet. 

I  set  Pack-Straps. 

I  Pick. 

I  Handle. 

I  I>rifi-J*ick, 

I  Handle. 

I  Shmel, 

iGold-l'att, 

I  Axe. 

I  Whip- Saw. 


1  Hand-S.TW. 
I  Jack -Plane. 
I  Brace. 

4  Bits,  avS4)nc<|,  ,'^  to  I  in. 
I  8-in.  Mill  Kile. 

1  6  in.  .Mill  Kile. 

I  Broad  ILitclict. 

I  2  «jt.  <*talvani/ctl  Coffee- Pot. 

I  Kry-Pan. 

I  Pack.ij;e  Ki\els. 

I  l>raw-Knifc.  [Cirani'tc. 

3  Coveretl  PaiK  4,  6,  and  8  «|t.. 

I  Pie- Plate. 

I  Knife  ami  Fork. 

1  (iranite  Cup. 

I  each  Tea  an«l  Table  SjKKin. 

I  l4iM.  Granite  Si)oon. 

I  Tai>e-Me.uurc. 

I  1)  in.  Chi!>el. 
10  lb>.  Oakum, 
10  Ills.  Pitch. 

5  lbs.  2od.  Nails. 

5  ll>s.  lal.  Nails. 

6  IK  6<l.  Nails. 
200  feet  5in.  Ki»[>e. 

I  Single  B!tH.k. 

I  Solder  Outfit. 

I  I4<|1.  C.alvani/eil  Pail. 

1  Granite  Sauccj>an. 

3  ll»s.  Canilleuick. 

1  Con»|taNs. 

I  Miner's  Candlestick. 

6  Towels, 

I  .\xe- Handle. 

I  .Vxe-Stone. 

I  Emery-Stone. 

I  Sheet -Iron  Stove. 

1  Tent. 


22 


\  • 


CLOTHING,  SLEDS,  AND  DOCS 

I  bought  a  small  tw«>-anda-half-i)oint  while  blanket  at 
the  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  store  here,  for  cutlinj;  up 
into  s<|uares  to  fold  over  the  feet  inside  the  m*H:casins 
or  else  made  into  **Siwash"  socks.  FiH)t-gear  must  be 
loose  and  plentiful.  A  miner  lately  returned  from  three 
years  on  the  Yukon  told  me  he  kept  one  large  sack  for 
nothing  but  moccasins  and  socks. 

On  the  advice  of  Inspector  Harper  of  the  Northwest- 
ern Mounted  Police,  who  is  taking  twenty  men  to  Daw- 
son, I  added  two  suits  of  fine  Balbriggan  underwear,  to  be 
worn  underneath  the  woollens,  and  a  shirt  of  buckskin. 
He  also  advised  the  use  of  l<x)se  Lisle-thread  gloves  in- 
side the  mittens,  which  enables  the  hand  t<»  be  comfort- 
ably withdrawn  from  the  mitten  in  very  cold  weather. 
For  rough  work,  as  handling  a  raft  or  using  toi»ls,  a 
stouter  glove  of  buckskin,  very  loose,  would  wear  better. 
As  regards  the  loose  glove  inside  the  mitten,  this  agrees 
with  Caspar  Whitney's  experience  in  the  extreme  north 
of  Canada,  in  the  Barren  Grounds  east  of  the  mouth  of 
the  Mackenzie  River,  in  winter.  Most  pei>ple  buy  the 
complete  lumberman's  Mackinaw  suit,  of  coat  and  trou- 
sers, to  which  may  be  added  a  heavy  Mackinaw  shirt, 
with  high  collar.  The  gayer  patterns  seen  in  the  East- 
ern lumber-camps  arc  seldom  s*ild  here,  but  even  the 
plainest  Mackinaw  is  positively  immodest. 

Many  are  taking  in  sleds  and  dogs.  Some  splendid 
St.  Bernards  are  going  up.  Dogs  are  expensive.  None 
suitable  can  be  had  here  at  any  price,  while  those  for 
the  use  of  the  mounted  police,  brought  from  eastward, 
cost  nearly  as  much  cxpressage  as  a  horse  would  cost 
to  buy.  The  sleds  (said  to  have  originated  in  the  Cas- 
siar  Mountains,  and  thence  carried  into  the  Yukon), 
to  one  who  is  accustomed  to  the  Indian  tob<jggan, 
whether  the  flat  upturned  lx)ard  or  the  New  Brunswick 

.   2i 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

kind  with  cedar  sides  and  beech  shoes,  seem  heavy, 
but  are  built  by  those  who  understand  the  needs  of  the 
country.  They  are  7  feet  long,  about  16  inches  wide, 
with  a  height  of  6  inches.  The  lx>w  is  slightly  upturned, 
and  the  top,  of  four  longitudinal  pine  slats,  rests  upon 
four  cross -frames  of  a^^h,  with  ash  runners  shoil  with 
two-inch  steel  shoes. 

The  steamer  Bristol^  a  large  steel  collier,  was  chartered 
on  a  few  days'  notice,  and  advertised  to  sail  several  days 
before  our  boat.  She  was  hauled  into  the  outer  wharf. 
and  the  carpenters  went  aboard  with  scantling  and  con- 
verted her  entire  hold  into  stalls  two  feet  in  width  for 
horses;  and  there  were  stalls  on  deck,  and  hay  on  top  of 
them.  Rough  bunks  were  put  in,  filling  every  available 
spot  on  the  ship.  It  was  a  scene  on  the  dock  such  as 
Victoria  had  never  seen  before.  Scores  of  men  were  at 
work  building  scows,  with  which  to  lighter  the  freight 
ashore  at  Skagway  (pronounced  Skagway,  not  Skadg- 
way),  loading  the  bags  containing  the  miners'  supplies, 
and  hoisting  one  by  one  the  five  or  six  hundred  horses 
aboard.  It  characterizes  the  haste  with  which  the  crush 
has  had  to  be  met  that,  after  leaving,  the  ship  returned 
to  port  to  adjust  her  top  load,  after  a  delay  of  four  days 
beyond  the  advertised  time  of  sailing,  during  which  time 
the  poor  animals  were  crowded  in  close  rows,  with  no 
chance  to  lie  down,  and,  below,  not  even  chance  to 
breathe.  The  men  were  hardly  better  off  than  the 
horses,  two  of  which  are  of  my  outfit,  in  charge  of  the 
boy  Burghardt.  I  let  two  horses  go  on  the  IWistol^  as 
Burghardt  and  McCarron  had  not  at  that  time  bought 
their  own  horses,  which  could  now  go  aboard  the  Isl- 
ander in  the  space  reserved  for  mine.  On  account  of 
these  delays  —  which  culminated  in  a  meeting  of  in- 
dignant   passengers    on   the   dock  —  we   who    have   en- 


OFF    FOR    KLONDIKE 

jjaged  to  jjo  on  the  gotxl  steamer  Islatuicr^  Captain  John 
Irving,  will  get  there  as  soon  as,  oY  st>oner  than,  they. 

As  I  conoliule  the  account  of  the  preliminary  work,  we 
are  all  aboard  the  IsLxudcr.  She  has  left  her  wharf  at 
Victoria,  to  the  sound  of  cheer  after  cheer  from  dense 
crowds,  which  have  taken  jH)ssession  of  every  vantage- 
ground.  The  stalwart  forms  of  the  mourned  police, 
truly  a  fine-I<H)king  body  of  men,  take  the  crowd,  and  cheer 
after  cheer  goes  up  ft>r  them.  There  are  no  more  lusty 
shouts  than  those  given  by  thirty-six  small  l)oys  perched 
in  a  row  on  the  ridge-p*>le  of  the  wharf  overl(H*king  the 
water.  "Three  cheers  for  the  mounted  police !"  and 
•*Three  cheers  for  Klondike!" 

There  are  sad  faces  alx^ard,  and  a  tear  moistens  the 
eye  of  more  than  one  hardened  miner  who  is  leaving 
wife  and  ^family  behind.  But  we  are  glad  l>ecause  of 
the  cheering  crowd,  for,  as  Jim  remarks,  it  would  have 
seemed  pretty  blue  if  there  had  been  nobody  here. 

Steamship  InAspta,  Att^iut  19. 

As  the  echoes  of  the  cheers  that  greet  our  departure 
die  away  and  the  city  fades  from  view  in  the  growing 
darkness,  we  go,  each  <>f  us,  alx)Ut  his  res[)cctive  afifairs. 
Some,  worn  out  by  the  work  and  excitement  of  getting 
off,  turn  in  early  to  bed  ;  others  take  a  look  at  the  horses, 
which  are  making  a  regular  hubbub  on  the  lower  deck. 
We  find  them  wedged  side  by  side  in  a  long  row  along 
each  side  of  the  ship,  with  heads  towards  the  ejigines,  and 
no  chance  to  lie  down.  Frightened  by  the  |H>unding  of 
the  engines  and  the  blasts  of  the  whistle,  they  are  throw- 
ing themselves  back  on  their  halters  and  bitinp-  and  kick- 
ing. Jim  McCarron,  ex-cavalryman.  U.  S.  A.,  is  now  in 
his  clement,  and  I  think  he  wants  to  show  his  friends,  the 
mounted  police,  that  he,  too,  knows  a  bit  about  horses. 

37 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Several  of  our  halters  are  broken,  and  it  l<M)ks  as  if  wc 
would  have  to  take  alternate  watches,  but  Jim  patches 
up  some  rope  halters.  Next  day  the  animals  had  tjuieted 
down,  but  nearly  every  horse  has  a  mark  fmm  the  teeth 
of  his  neig;hl)<)r.  Poles  should  have  l)een  put  across,  sepa- 
ratinj;  them. 

One  man  has  eijjht  or  ten  enormous  steers  aboard, 
which,  with  characteristic  lK>vine  phili>S4>phy.  lie  down  in 
the  road  of  every  one.  and  will  bud^e  neither  for  threat 
nor  kick.  They  are  beini^  taken  iv.  for  packinj^  and  haul- 
injf.  We  sincerely  trust  we  shall  never  have  to  try  to 
eat  them  when  they  reach  Klondike.  It  is  a  ^<M)d-natured. 
sober  crowd  ab<»ard.  Several  have  remarketl  how  un- 
demonstrative it  is.  One-half  are  Americans.  They  are 
of  every  deyjree  and  of  all  sorts  but  dudes.  There  is  a 
house-builder  from  Brooklyn,  a  contractor  from  Boston, 
the  business  manager  of  a  Xew  York  pai>er,  and  Iniys 
that  seem  not  over  nineteen.*  Thev  have  all  formed 
parties  or  partnershif>s  some  to  share  every  vicissitude 
of  fortune,  others  only  to  last  until  the  gold-dij^^inj^^s 
are  reached.  Only  a  few  are  dressed  in  the  l«K>se,  rough 
clothes  of  the  miner.  Several  that  I  know  who  are  going 
in  have  kept  on  their  city  suits,  and  it  has  been  amusing 
to  see  men  unaccustomed  to  rough  garments  emerge,  one 
by  one,  from  their  state-n>oms  with  their  miners*  rigs  of 
heavy  boots  and  corduroys.  One  most  picturestjue  fig- 
ure is  a  swarthy  man  of  spare  but  wiry  build  who  turned 
out  in  full  buckskin  suit,  at  which  some  smiled  ;  but  after 
a  talk  with  him  it  was  impossible  not  to  admit  that,  while 


•  One  of  the  passengers  m-as  Captain  (now  Lieutenant-Colonel) 
A.  A.  Lee.  Royal  Artillen'.  ^<>inj»  north  for  the  I^>inlon  Ciironiili, 
who  returned  from  the  passes  in  time  for  the  Sf*.inisli  War.  dur- 
ing which  he  accompanied  the  United  States  as  military  attache 
of  the  British  army. 


THE  /slax/)/l/^'S  PAssExr, i:rs 


,^4M^^N«»W%  dj^ 


the  buckskin  mij^ht  "draw"  somewhat  in  wet  weather, 
nevertheless  he  was  as  well  Hxed  as  any  man  <»n  lx)ar(l. 
lie  is  a  packer  and  hunter,and  hails  fn»m  the  Black  Hills, 
atid  has  a  partner  seven  feet  tall,  who  is  a  lawyer. 

One  noticeable  thiny;  is  the  total  absence  of  oaths  <»r 
the  sort  of  lan- 
jjiiage    one   will 
hear  from  morn 
till  ni^ht  amonij 
lumbermen.  The 
conversation     is 
pitched  in  a  low 
key  ;   men  have 
serious  thinjjs  to 
talk    about  — 
those  they  have 
left  behind;  the 
pass    ahead    of 
them;  their  out- 
fits,   and    those 
of   their    neigh- 
bors.    Some  are 
pretty     well 
e{| nipped  ;    in- 
deed, save  for  a 
general   lack   of 
water  -  proof 
sacks,   they    are 
well   prepared 
for    the    rainy 

country  which,  by  the  lowering  clouds  and  increasing 
banks  of  fog,  we  seem  to  be  entering. 

Of  the  passengers  al>oard  it  may  safely  be  said  that 
each  man  has  half  a  ton  of  freight  stored  away  in  the 

29 


M<)IMEI>  lOl.ICK  IN  STAKI.R  INIKoRM  OF  HROWN 
CANVAS,  WITH    **  HCS»KY  "  IMKJS 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


hold.  Some,  representing^  companies,  have  more  than 
that.  There  is  a  large  consignment  of  sleds  al)oard,  and 
!»everal  boats,  all  of  which  are  in  lengths  too  long  to  pack 
over  the  pass.  One  New  York  party  has  folding  can- 
vas canoes. 

During  the  daytime  we  lonngc  about  on  the  bales 
of   hay  on  deck,  some   sleeping,  others   admiring    the 

grand  mountain  scen- 
^  ,  ,,  cry  through  which  we 
are  passing.  Others 
who  have  ritles  to 
test  keep  a  sharp  KH>k- 

ts^--^  ^^^H      4  out  for  ducks,     (toing 

P*^     L  -  ''■  ^'       '"^       ^  "^ 

^ — »^- ^     •     ^  -      ^-       ^    ?«      through    the    narrows 

between  Vancouver  Isl- 
and and  the  mainland 
we  came  across  numer- 
ous small  rtocksof  sea- 
duck,  which  gave  us 
long  shots,  in  which 
the  excellence  of  the  new  ** 30-40  smokeless**  as  long-range 
g^ns  st<x)d  forth  unmistakably.  **  Buckskin  Joe."  as  we 
have  dubbed  our  mountain  man  from  the  Black  Hills,  has 
a  gun  which,  like  himself,  is  unique.  It  is  a  30-40  Ihjx- 
magazine  Winchester  placed  side  by  side  on  the  same 
stock  with  a  Winchester  repeating  shot-gun,  and  there  is 
a  telescopic  sight  between  them.  It  is,  however,  so  put 
together  that  it  '^an  be  taken  apart  and  each  gun  fitted 
to  a  separate  stock,  which  he  has  with  him. 

Freight  is  in  utmost  confusion  ;  three  parcels  of  my 
own  that  came  aboard  as  my  personal  baggage  went  into 
the  hold — result,  some  valuable  photograj)hic  chemicals 
probably  crushed,  although  in  heavy  boxes.  No  one 
knows  where  to  find  his  oats  and  hay.     Everybody  is  bor- 


fcao'  -«  v*'^ 


TAi.Ki.xi;  chthts 


A   TARIFF    QUESTION 


rowing  from  his  neighlx^r.  We  have  three  bales  of  hay 
and  a  thousand  p<^unds  of  oats,  and,  except  for  one  bale 
of  hay,  not  a  pi>und  of  our  horse-feed  have  we  been  able 
to  get  at. 

The  time  |Kisses  between  boxing-bouts  on  deck,  singing 
to  the  accompaniment  of  the  piano,  inspecting  one  an- 
other's outfits,  and  poker,  five -cent  limit.  The  second 
night  out,  when  just  out  of  Seymour  Channel,  the  engine 
suddenly  stt>pped.  All  hands  rushed  on  deck,  and  we 
SSLW  lights  alongside  that  were  rei^orteil  to  be  those  of  a 
steamer  on  the  rocks.  It  proved  to  be  the  Danube,  which 
was  returning  from  Skagway.  She  was  all  right,  but 
sent  some  word  aboard  to  t»ur  captain  alK>ut  the  cus- 
toms, and  a  report  was  circulated  that  there  was  to  be 
trouble  ahead  for  us 
**  Canadians."  It  was 
well  understo<xl  by  us 
that  our  goods,  in  con- 
sequence of  being  **  in 
bond**  through  the 
strip  of  American  ter- 
ritory this  side  the 
passes,  could  not  be 
touched  by  us  at  Skag- 
way. Several  of  the 
Canadian  officials  on 

board  expressed  the  ho{)e,  which  we  all  shared,  that  the 
American  customs  officials  had  been  given  power  to  use 
discretion  in  view  of  the  e-xceptional  circumstances  of 
this  stampede,  or,  if  not  yet  given  such  power,  that  they 
would  use  it  anyhow.  If  the  United  States  officers  de- 
cide that  **bulk  must  remain  unbroken" — the  technical 
term  used  when  g<x)ds  are  in  bond  and  under  seal— it 
will  be  the  poor  miner  who  will  suffer.     He  will  suffer 


r»0>P»xriVK   MILLIONAIRES 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

by  not  havinjj  access  to  his  foo<l  and  cookinjj  and  camp- 
ing utensils  until  after  he  Rets  over  the  pass;  and  if  he 
does  break  bulk,  and  thus  destroys  the  seal  which  is 
evidence  of  Canadian  purchase,  he  will  be  liable  to  the 
Canadians  for  the  duties  after  he  crt»sses  the  pass.  We 
were,  therefore,  in  no  small  suspense  until  the  afternoon 
of  the  »7th,  when  we  reached  Mary  Island,  in  Alaska. 
Here  the  American  customs  official,  Mr.  I*.  A.  Smith, 
came  aboard,  and  after  supi>er  he  sent  for  all  the  {)as- 
scngers  to  meet  him  in  the  dining -saUxjn,  where  he 
addressed  us  in  the  following  words : 

** Gentlemen,  I  have  just  a  few  words  to  «ay  to  you. 
and  I  shall  sjjeak  as  loud  as  I  can,  but,  if  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  make  myself  heard,  I  hope  those  who  do  hear  will 
tell  the  others.  I  suppose  that  m«^t  of  you  are  Canadians 
and  I  wish  to  make  a  few  suggestions  to  you,  so  that  you 
may  be  put  to  as  little  trouble  as  possible  in  transit.  My 
advice  to  you  is  to  get  organized,  and  appoint  committees 
to  look  after  the  landing  at  Skagway.  I  was  on  the 
Danubt'y  and  I  gave  its  passengers  the  same  advice,  and 
they  appointed  a  committee  of  ten,  who  saw  to  the  separa- 
tion of  the  freight  and  that  each  man  got  his  own  go<»ds. 
If  you  do  not  do  this  there  will  l)e  great  confusion,  for  I 
suppose  you  are  aware  that  the  landing  is  done  in  scows. 
These  committees  can  attend  to  everything,  and  you  will 
have  no  trouble  whatever.  The  passengers  on  the  Diinubt' 
had  no  trouble  whatever.  I  would  say  another  thing  ti» 
you.  There  are  persons  in  Skagway  who  gather  in 
things ;  and  your  committee  can  apfxunt  watchers  to 
keep  an  eye  on  your  things  and  to  guard  the  supplies. 

**Xow,  as  to  food  at  Skagway.  I  suppose  you  know 
that,  according  to  the  strict  letter  of  the  law,  gocxls 
bonded  through  cannot  be  broken  without  payment  of 
duty  ;  but  such  things  as  tents  and  blankets  a  man  must 

32 


WHISKEY    PROHIBITED    IN    ALASKA 

have.  Those  you  will  be  allowed  to  use ;  but  I  would 
advise  you  to  stop  off  at  Juneau  and  to  buy  there  enou^jh 
food  to  last  you  over  the  i^iss.  It  will  not  cost  you  any 
more  than  at  Seattle,  and  you  can  get  just  enough  and 
take  it  al)oard  ;  there  will  be  no  charge  for  freight. 

**Xow,  another  thing.    The  government  of  the  United 
States  is  very  strict  aU>ut  bringing  whiskey  into  Alaska. 


r^^  'fr^5i4-V- *J^rtft>- 


-^^Ift 


^>^'^5ii^?"^:^-adie?r^^^ 


i^^r-^ii^'cJtf^^ 


SKAC.WAV,  TWO  WEXK.S  KEFORB  OI^R   ARRIVAL 


Any  one  found  with  liquor  is  liable  to  a  severe  fine  and 
imprisonment,  and  if  I  should  find  any  of  you  with  liquor 
I  should  have  to  arrest  him  and  take  him  to  Juneau, 
where  he  would  be  punished — " 

Just  here  the  seven -foot  partner  of  **  Buckskin  Joe'* 
jumped  to  his  feet.  **  Mr.  Officer/' said  he,  **  I  have  a 
flask  of  whiskey  with  me,  and  me  and  my  partner — well, 
we  have  a  quart  flask  between  us.  We  don't  drink  ;  we 
are  taking  it  strictly  for  medicinal  purposes.  What  shall 
we  do  ?" 

**  In  such  case,"  replied  Mr.  Smith,  **  I  may  say  that  it 
Is  not  the  intention  of  the  law  to  e.xamine  a  man's  flask. 
C  13 


THE    KLOKDIKE    STAMPEDE 

The  purpose  of  the  law  is  to  prevent  the  sale  of  whiskey 
to  the  Indians,  and  it  is  very  strictly  enforced  ;  but,  of- 
course,  wc  do  not  look  into  people's  flasks.   I  only  caution 
you.     There  are  unprincipled  men  who  would  trathc  in 
liquor,  and  such  as  these  I  desire  to  warn  in  time." 

This  short  speech,  delivered  with  quiet  dignity,  created 
the  most  favorable  impression,  and  from  all  on  board  I 
heard  nothinjj  but  words  of  praise  of  the  attitude  as- 
sumed by  our  government.  Jim  McCarron  could  hardly 
restrain  his  feelings.  **That  man's  a  credit  to  the  coun- 
try/* he  whispered.  The  customs  officer  was  surrounded 
by  an  eager  crowd  asking  quest i<»ns. 

"What  is  the  penalty  for  theft  at  Skagway  ?" 

**Thcy  [the  minersj  give  him  twenty-four  hours  to 
leave;  and  if  he  doesn't  leave,  he  is  shot." 

Inquiry  was  made  about  the  attitude  of  the  Canadian 
oflficials.  The  Canadian  customs  party,  in  charge  of  Mr. 
John  Godson,  were  passengers  on  the  Danube.  ( )f  course, 
Mr.  Smith  had  no  authority  to  speak,  but  he  gave  the 
impression  that  the  two  governments  had  reached  an 
understanding,  and  that  no  hardship  would  be  inflicted 
on  miners  by  a  strict  enforcement  of  the  law. 

**  We  came  to  this  agreement,"  said  he,  "  because  many 
of  the  miners  who  are  coming  up  here,  after  they  have 
bought  their  supplies  and  their  horses,  will  have  nothing 
left  over  to  pay  duty,  and  it  would  Ix?  a  needless  hardsliij). 
Our  desire  is  to  get  them  thn)Ugh  as  easily  as  jH)ssihle." 

Of  our  i6o  passengers  and  109  horses,  every  one  will 
start  over  White  Pass,  although  it  seems  incredible  that 
an  easier  pass,  which  this  is  reported  to  be,  exists  so 
near  the  Dyea  trail 

The  new  trail  seems  to  have  been  cut  through  by  a 
company  formed  for  the  construction  of  a  railway, 
known    as   the    British    Yukon    Mining,   Trading,   and 


ARRIVAL    AT    JUXEAU 

Transportation  Company.  The  American  branch  is 
known  as  the  Alaskan  and  Northwestern  Territories 
Trading  Company.  Mr.  G.  H.  Escolme.of  Victoria,  man- 
aging director  of  the  American  company,  who  is  aboard 
the  Islander^  says  of  White  Pass  trail  : 

**We  have  cut  a  trail  over  the  summit  from  Skag- 
way,  at  a  cost  of  $io,ooo.  We  own  the  town  site  of 
Skagway,  and  are  building  wharves,  etc.  We  cut  the 
trail  mainly  to  prospect  for  the  railroad,  I  went  over 
the  trail  on  the  15th  of  July  and  came  back  on  the  i6th. 
Then  the  trail  did  not  go  beyond  the  summit,  but  we 
have  had  men  working  there  right  along  since.  It  is  a 
private  trail ;  but  we  are  alx)ut  the  only  people  who  are 
not  taxing  the  miners,  and  we  don't  want  to  do  s^>  at  any 
time.  We  expect  to  get  a  few  miles  of  the  railroad  built 
this  fall ;  but  even  when  the  railroad  is  done  there  will 
be  many  who  will  go  over  the  trail.  It  may  be  that  \ve 
shall  charge  a  small  toll.  One  of  my  present  purposes 
is  to  try  to  reduce  the. price  of  packing,  which  is  now 
to  cents  a  pound,  and  we  mean  to  see  that  the  miners 
get  supplies  at  a  reasonable  cost." 

We  are  now  approaching  Juneau.  We  have  had,  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  fog-banks,  t>eautiful  clear  weather, 
and  the  trip  has  been  like  a  summer  excursion.  But  now, 
well  in  Alaska,  in  the  shadow  of  snow-capped  mountains 
and  glaciers,  the  rain  is  coming  down  in  a  steady  drizzle. 
We  have  been  trying  hard  to  overtake  the  Jiristo/, 
which  started  only  a  day  ahead.  At  Juneau,  Jim  goes 
ashore  to  buy  hardtack,  tea,  bacon,  and  sugar  to  last 
three  days  (by  which  time  we  ex{>ect  to  be  over  the 
summit,  when  we  can  open  our  bonded  goods);  I,  to 
purchase  a  new  hat  and  look  around. 

Juneau,  sustained  by  the  great  Treadwell  quartz  mine 
on  Douglas  Island  nearby,  has  for  many  years  been  the 

35 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

outfitting:-point  for  the  upper  Yukon,  and  many  of  the 
shopkeei)ers  are  old  miners  who  understand  thoroughly 
the  wants  of  those  going  to  the  g(»ld-Helds.  The  rush 
has  taken  Juneau  by  surprise,  but  by  spring  they  expect 
to  have  full  lines  of  clothing  and  supplies  to  meet  any 
demand. 

It  was  the  opinion  of  all  that  prices  at  Juneau  were 
reasonable.  Oil-skin  o>ats  that  sell  for  $3.50  in  Victoria 
sold  for  $3  in  Juneau  ;  but  our  Canadian  woollens  were 
better  value  than  the  American.  We  found  the  stores 
thoroughly  drained  of  snow-sh(^es,  a  pair  of  second-hand 
worn -out  Montreal  shoes  selling  for  $3.50.  Hair -seal 
boots,  mitts,  and  low  moccasins,  as  well  as  fur  caps  made 
of  marmot  (sold  as  **pup  wolf"),  of  black-fox  feet,  and 
of  hair-seal,  are  sold  by  stpiaws,  who  await  the  arrival  of 
the  steamer,  scjuatting  in  a  long  row  against  a  building 
at  the  wharf,  and  offer  their  wares  to  the  passengers. 
The  boots  have  tops  that  reach  to  the  knee,  and  sell  for 
any  price  down  to  $^.30.  The  hair-seal  is  not  to  be  con- 
fused with  the  fur-seal.  The  skin  is  covered  with  short, 
glistening,  mottled,  yellowish  hair,  is  full  of  oil,  and  is 
said  to  be  water-proof. 

It  was  raining  a  steady  drizzle  the  hour  or  two  we  were 
in  Juneau.  We  seemed  to  have  entered  a  region  of  per- 
petual ft>gs  and  rain,  and  our  hearts  sank  as  we  thought 
of  Skagway.  My  greatest  apprehension  was  about  pho- 
tography, on  account  of  the  rain  and  absence  of  sufficient 
light  for  **  instantaneous"  work. 

As  we  drew  near  the  entrance  of  Lynn  Canal,  which 
branches  off  to  the  right  from  Glacier  Bay,  we  ran  into  a 
bank  of  fog,  and  the  Islander  came  to  and  dropped  anchor. 

At  10.30  o'clock  a  meeting  of  the  passengers  was  called 
to  act  upon  the  suggestions  of  the  customs  officer  and  to 
devise  plans  for  the  landing  of  our  stuff.     The  steam- 

3^ 


LANDING  FREIGHT  AT  SKAGWAY 

ship  only  undertakes  to  deliver  passengers  and  freight  at 
Skagway  Bay.  The  work  of  landing  the  freight  must  be 
done  by  the  passengers;  the  steamship  |K*ople  refuse  to 
assume  any  responsibility.  Accordingly,  after  a  lengthy 
discussion,  during  which  all  the  kickers  had  s*>mething 
to  say,  it  was  resolved  to  appoint  a  committee  nf  three 
to  devise  plans  for  the  unloading  of  the  gt>ods,  and  with 
power  to  add  as  many  as  necessary  to  their  number. 
The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  minutes  of  the  committee : 

••Minutes  of  the  first  meeting  of  committee,  composed  of 
Messrs.  Arthur  T.  Genest.  William  Macintosh,  and  George  \V. 
Young,  appointed  by  the  passengers  to  form  and  execute  plans 
for  the  landing  and  protection  of  the  freiv;ht  held  on  board  the 
steamship />7c»«//«'r  on  Augijst  19.  1897.  at  11  p.m. 

"The  meeting  was  calle*!  to  order  by  Mr.  Genest,  who  was 
chosen  chairman.  Mr.  L.  B.  Garside  was  made  the  secretar>  of 
the  committee.  After  discussion,  the  following  plan  was  de- 
cided upon: 

•*Upon  arriving  at  Skagway  a  representative  of  the  committee 
will  go  ashore  and  select  a  suitable  place  on  the  beach  for  land- 
ing and  distributing  the  goods.  This  will  be  enclosed  by  ropes, 
and  the  enclosure  will  be  policed  by  a  committee  of  fiUeen, 
armed  with  rifles,  and  doing  fx>lice  duty  in  shifts  of  eight  hours 
each.  No  goods  can  be  removed  from  the  enclosure  except  upon 
a  written  order  of  the  committee.  On  board  ship.  Messrs.  S.  .-\. 
Hall  and  J.  Robinson  will  check  the  gtKxls  as  unloaded  and  sent 
ashore,  and  on  shore  the  goods  received  will  be  checked  by 
Messrs.  D.  Orsonnens  and  N.  B.  Forrest.  Fifty  volunteers  will 
receive  goods  as  landed,  and.  in  conjunction  with  the  subcommit- 
tee, distribute  and  arrange  the  same.  Messrs,  William  Fuller  and 
Duncan  MacDonald  will  police  the  boat  until  freight  and  bag- 
gage are  discharged." 

Further  arrangements  consisted  in  the  appointment 
of  Mr.  J.  W.  Beall  as  Chief  of  Police  in  the  enclosure, 

57 


THE    KLONDIKE    vSTAMPEDE 

with  instructions  to  ap|>oint  his  assistants,  and  the  pre- 
vious plans  were  modified  to  the  extent  of  allowing  re- 
moval of  goods  upon  proper  identification  and  receipt  to 
Mr.  Beall. 

To-night  hardly  anything  is  talked  about  but  plans  of 
landing.  Every  moment,  as  we  approach  our  destina- 
tion, our  anxiety  increases  ;  while  in  Juneau  everybo<iy 
had  interviewed  somebody,  and  everyl>ody  who  was  not 
interviewed  volunteered  something  to  say.  Xo  two 
stories  agreed,  save  that  all  told  one  story  of  trouble  and 
hardship  past  comprehension.  Only  one  man  was  dis- 
covered who  said  the  trail  was  all  right.  We  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  either  there  are  no  liars  like  th<>se  of 
Alaska,  or  that  the  people  here  are  very  ignorant. 
Every  one  throws  up  his  hands  in  disgust  and  says, 
•*We  will  know  what  it  is  like  when  we  get  there,  and 
not  before." 


CHAPTER   III 


Landing  at  Skag\*ay  —  Excitement  and  Hardships  and  Confusion — A 
New  City — Duty  on  Horses — First  Ciliiii|>se  «»f  the  Trail — SkagM^ay 
River— At  the  '*  Fool  of  the  Hill  "—Horses  Down 

Skagway  Bay,  Amxust  20. 

HE  sun  broke  through  the  dense  banks 
of  clouds  that  rested  on  the  frowning 
hills,  the  fog  lifted  a  bit,  the  anchor  was 
weighed,  and  we  steamed  onward. 

There  was  much  talk  about  the  />V/V- 
/<?/,  some  hoping  we  had  passed  her ; 
but  soon  those  who  were  on  the  look- 
out at  the  bow  reported  a  vessel  ahead 
on  the  right  hand  in  a  shallow  bight,  and  as  we  drew 
near  we  saw  other  vessels,  and  beyond  them  a  faint 
streak  of  white  sparkling  in  the  fitful  sunlight  across  a 
little  valley,  with  the  steep  hills  rising  on  each  side,  their 
tops  lost  in  the  canopy  of  clouds.  Beyond  the  line  of 
white  were  green  trees,  and  far  away  stretched  a  narrow, 
flat  valley,  winding  among  the  hills.  It  is  Skagway  Bay ; 
and  it  is  White  l*ass  that  lies  far  away  in  the  blue  distance. 
As  we  steamed  slowly  into  the  little  bay  the  white  streak 
resolved  itself  into  tents,  a  city  of  tents,  stretched  across 
a  plain  hardly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  level,  and  pre- 
senting a  straight  front  to  the  bay. 

The  Bristol  had  arrived  three  or  four  hours  ahead  of 
us.  Her  rails  were  black  with  men,  who  reported  all 
well,  and  after  a  while  the  voice  of  Burghardt  shouted 

39 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

over  the  short  interval  of  water  the  good  news  that  our 
horses  were  all  rij^ht. 

The  horses  and  hay  were  beinpj  unloaded  into  larjjjc 
scows,  which  were  being  towed  in  hy  row-boats  to  the 
beach,  which  was  also  crowded  with  moving  figures. 
The  beach  is  low,  and  runs  out  several  hundred  yanls, 
and  then  drops  off  into  deep  water.  At  low  tide  the 
whole  Deach  is  uncovered,  so  the  steamers  lie  outside  and 


PRlMmVE    LANniN<;    FAriUTIFS 
Stcanwhip  to  Soow :   .Scow  to  Waicun  ;    WaK<Nt  to  Shore 


wait  for  high  tide  to  unload  their  freight.  Our  vessel 
was  soon  surrounded  by  a  fleet  of  row-l)oats  and  large 
Siwash  canoes,  trying  to  pick  up  passengers  for  shore  at 
25  cents  each.  In  crowds  on  the  deck  we  stood  gazing  in 
wonder  at  the  scene  before  us.  Few  of  us  had  the  in- 
clination to  look  at  the  truly  grand  scenery  with  which  we 
were  surrounded.  Snow  and  glacier  capped  mountains, 
rising  thousands  of  feet  from  green,  sparkling  water, 
burying  their  lofty  heads  in  soft,  cottony  clouds,  are  for 
other  eyes  than  those  of  miners  excited  by  the  prepara- 


BEWILDERING    SIGHTS    AT    SKAGWAY 

lion  for  the  real  commencement  of  their  journey.  The 
captain  goes  ashore  for  a  customs  officer.  I  g<»  ashore 
with  two  t»thers — and  such  a  scene  as  meets  the  eye!  It 
is  simply  bewildering,  it  is  all  so  strange.  There  are  great 
crowds  of  men  rowing  in  boats  to  the  beach,  then  clam- 
bering out  in  rubber  boots  and  packing  the  stuff,  and 
setting  it  down  in  little  piles  out  of  reach  <>f  the  tide. 
Here  are  little  groups  of  men  resting  with  their  outfits. 
Horses  are  tethered  out  singly  and  in  groups.  Tents 
there  are  of  every  size  and  kind,  and  men  cooking  over 
large  sheet -iron  stoves  set  up  outside.  Behind  these 
are  more  tents  and  men,  and  piles  of  merchandise  and 
iiay,  bacon  smoking,  men  loading  bags  and  bales  of  hay 
upon  horses  and  .starting  off,  leading  from  one  to  three 
animals  along  a  sort  of  lane — which  seems  much  trav- 
elled— in  the  direction  of  a  grove  of  small  cotton  woods, 
beyond  which  lies  the  trail  towards  White  Pass.  Every- 
body is  on  the  move,  excepting  those  just  arrived,  and 
each  is  intent  upon  his  own  business.  There  are  said  to 
be  twenty-five  hundred  people  along  the  road  between 
the  bay  and  the  summit,  who  have  come  on  the  Mtxui\ 
Willamette^  Queen^  etc.  There  are  not  over  ()ne  hundred 
tents  at  Skagway/and  there  may  be  five  hundred  j)ersons 
actually  in  the  town. 

Rough  frame  buildings  are  going  upas  quickly  as  men 
can  handle  scantling,  and  as  fast  as  they  are  finished  they 
are  turned  into  stores  or  warehouses.  There  are  three  or 
four  hotels  or  restaurants  ;  and  a  United  States  flag  Hy- 
ing over  a  tent  is  evidence  of  the  presence  of  a  United 
States  Court  Commissioner — the  only  representative  of 
government  here,  save  that  organized  by  the  miners 
themselves.  A  large  painted  cloth  sign  indicates  the 
location  of  the  correspondents  of  enterprising  newspa- 
pers, and  the  half  -  dozen  newspaper  men  here  gave  us 

41 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

a  hearty  welcome.  Men  and  horses  are  travellinj^  to  and 
fro  in  a  never-ending  stream.  There  are  a  number  of 
women  ;  such  as  I  met  beinj^  wives  who  have  accompa- 
nied their  husbands  thus  far,  and  most  of  wh»>m  will 
return. 

It  will  be  several  days  !>cfore  the  pack-trains  can  get 
well  under  way.     If  we  accom|>any  the  mounted  police, 


■•^^a*^. 


4*--: 


^^  f^-   rx-*^-^^4i^>^^ 


*rliiiV»r^^e^^lJLH. 


MTX¥RS   CCARDIXG  OCTFITS  JC^  LANDED 


as  we  have  been  courteously  invitetl  to  d«>,  there  will  be 
time  to  go  over  to  Dyea  an<l  t<»  see  the  Chilkoot  Pass. 
How  many  of  the  140  <Kld  who  are  starting  from  this 
ship  will  see  the  summit  of  White  Pass  ?  Or,  if  fortune 
favors  them  and  they  reach  the  lakes,  how  many  will 
reach  their  journey's  end  this  year,  or  ever?  The 
thought  is  in  every  one's  mind.  Each  new-comer  from 
up  the  trail  is  received  with  the  anxious  (juery,  **  What 
are  the  chances  of  getting  over?"  The  only  answer 
that  can  be  given  is,  "  It  depends  upon  what  you 
are," 


SOME    ACCOUNTS    OF    CHILKOOT    PASS 

Monti Mi^  of  A  u^ust  2 1 . 

At  dawn  a  call  of  "Get  up  ;  the  horses  are  bein^  taken 
ashore  I"  resounds  over  the  ship.  A  lar^e  scow  is  ranged 
alongside  the  vessel,  and  the  horses  are  walked  aboard 
on  a  plank  and  ferried  to  the  beach,  where  they  are 
dumped  ash<)re  into  shallow  water.  We  notice  that  men 
from  the  Uristoi  Vivc  taking  horse-  part  way, then  dump- 
ing them  overboard  and  swimming  them  ashore.  Jim 
and  the  Iwy  yesterday  set  their  tent  up  in  the  middle 
of  **  town,"  and  after  we  had  wadeil  our  horses  ashore, 
each  man  looking  after  his  own,  we  got  our  personal  ef- 
fects ashore  in  small  boats. 

It  is  imixissible  to  find  any  two  men  to  agree  u{K>n  any 
detail  about  the  pass.  It  is  tolerably  certain  that  the 
road  for  four  miles  or  so  to  the  **Foot  of  the  Hill"  is  fairly 
gotn! ;  after  that  it  is  only  described  in  words  not  fit  to 
be  heard.  It  is  probable  that  there  are  several  very  bad, 
steep  places  this  side  of  the  summit.  Some  who  are 
working  there  say  the  way  is  to  take  a  light  l^ad  on  the 
pack-train  all  the  way  in  without  a  stop.  Next  moment 
another,  equally  to  be  credited,  advises  to  move  the  whole 
outfit  gradually,  short  stages  at  a  time.  One  .says  but 
one  horse  can  be  led  at  a  time  over  these  places ;  anoth- 
er say's  three  can  be  handled  by  one  man  ;  while  still  an- 
other lets  the  horses  pick  their  own  way.  One  packer  tohl 
of  a  remArkable  escape  at  a  cliff — and  it  was  corroborated 
by  others — of  his  horse  falling  forty  feet  ;  when  they  got 
down  to  him  he  was  eating  grass,  and  the  lunch-bi>x  on 
his  back  was  undamaged.  The  day  l^efore,  two  men  and 
three  horses  fell  over  the  same  place.  My  informant 
is  seven  miles  from  the  top.  He  says, "I  mean  to  go 
over  if  it  takes  all  winter."  He  added  :  **  We  are  going 
right  on  about  our  business.  We  do  not  come  down  here 
to  town  nights  and  get  up  late  and  tired.     We  get  out 

4i 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

early,  at  four  o'clock.     We  do  not  come  down  to  these 
miners*  meetings." 

A  party  of  two  arrived  on  the  .lAAVfrom  Seattle  on  the 
nth  without  horses,  hired  rtve  men  at  $7  a  day  with  feed 
and  blankets,  and  are  near  the  summit,  preferring  to 
pay  such  wages  rather  than  to  pay  a  pack-train  from 
25  to  30  cents  per  pound.  Their  outfit  weighs  1200 
pounds  each.     One  of  them  was  a  barber. 

Discouraged  men  are  coming  down  from  the  trail,  and 
they  have  but  one  story  to  tell  —  of  terrible  hardship, 
horses  falling  right  and  left,  seventeen  in  one  place  ;  the 
road,  if  it  can  be  called  a  road,  in  terrible  condition  ;  not 
one  in  ten  will  get  over. 

I  talked  with  one  or  two  determined  fellows  who  came 
down  to  the  boat,  and  who  had  their  pack-trains  in  on 
the  trail  From  these  I  heard  a  different  story.  In  all  I 
have  talked  with  five  or  six  good  men,  but  they  all  agree 
that  there  is  plenty  of  trouble. 

**  The  road  is  good  for  four  or  five  miles — it  is  a  regu- 
lar cinch  ;  after  that  hell  begins." 

Some  say  that  not  one  in  ten  will  get  over.  These  are 
the  alarmists  and  the  e.xcited  ones.  A  more  conservative 
estimate  is  that  four  out  of  ten  will  get  through.  One 
party  of  two  loaded  their  belongings  into  a  small  soow 
and  paddled  out  to  the  steamer,  where  they  held  a  long 
talk  with  our  men,  announcing  that  they  were  bound  for 
Dyea  and  Chilkoot  Pass.  They  asserted  that  the  pass 
here  is  blocked,  while  men  are  moving  over  Chilkoot,  even 
if  slowly.  As  they  paddled  away  we  admired  their  pluck 
and  gave  them  a  rousing  cheer.  They  did  not  look  like 
strong  men,  but  they  smoked  their  pipes  bravely.  All 
their  stuff  was  on  the  scow,  sinking  it  low  in  the  water. 
There  were  sacks  and  l>oxes  and  two  buggy -wheels, 
with  which  to  make  a  narrow  push-cart.     It  is  pitiful. 


FAILURE    CAUSED    BY    INEXPERIENCE 

Their  last  words  \vere»  "  Well,  boys,  we  will  meet  you  on 
the  other  side  of  the  mountains."  We  wondered  if  they 
would. 

The  news  of  the  blockade  up  the  pass  is  havinjij  a  dis- 
couraginjj  effect  on  the  men.  They  are  earnestly  dis- 
cussing the  situation.  The  mounted  [)olice  and  their 
74  horses  are  all  right,  and  my  8  horses  for  the  outfit  of 
3,  they  say,  are  all  right ;  and  every  one  says  :».•<•  will  get 
over.  We  have  now  authentic  information  from  expe- 
rienced men  who  are  putting  their  stuff  over  the  trail. 


A  MINEK  S   WIFE 


I  asked  them  what  was  the  cause  of  the  trouble;  and 
ffom  all  whose  opinion  seemed  worth  any  consideration 
I  received  but  one  reply  : 

-    ^  It  is  the  im-xpcricHcc  of  t/wsc  icho  are  trying  to  go  oi'er. 
They  come  from  desks  and  counters;  they  have  never 
packed,  and  are  not  even  accustomed  to  hard  labor." 
One  party,  now  within  four  miles  of  the  top,  took  in 

4S 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

ten  horses.  They  lost  four  by  overloading ;  then  they 
reduced  the  weijjht  to  150  p^junds  per  horse.  The  roads 
are  said  U*  be  shelving,  and  the  horses  slip  and  break 
their  leijs,  and  have  to  be  shot.  To  -  day  two  horses 
mired,  fell,  and  smothered  before  their  clumsy  owners 
could  get  their  heads  clear.  I  have  traced  the  conflict- 
ing stories  to  this  : 

This  is  an  army.  Th<>se  in  front  are  stubbornly  fight- 
ing their  way  ;  the\^  arc  moving  slowly,  but  they  will  get 
over.  Behind  these  are  the  stragglers,  who  in  turn  Ix;- 
ojme  the  beaten  rabble  in  the  rear  of  the  fight.  Th()se 
up  the  |)ass  are  cool,  experiencetl  men,  and  they  are  keep- 
ing their  heads.  One  man  says :  "  Why,  those  who  are 
making  the  most  talk  are  here  yet.  They  have  not  been 
out  of  Skagway ;  but  they  get  upon  a  stump  and  Knik 
around,  and  think  they  have  seen  the  whole  biLsinc-ss." 

Men  have  come  without  horses,  and  without  money 
to  f>ay  the  high  price  for  packing  —  now  35  cents  per 
pound.  They  are  leaving  for  Chilkoot,  or  else  selling 
their  outfits  for  what  they  can  get.  Flour  in  the  sack 
has  just  been  selling  for  35  cents  per  hundredweight,  or 
17}  cents  per  sack  of  fifty  pounds — many  times  less  than 
cost ;  bacon,  only  5  cents  per  pound.  On  the  i»lher 
hand,  horses,  up  to  yesterday,  $200;  to-day  from  $125 
to  $150,  poor  ones  at  that.  In  four  or  five  days,  it  is  s;iid 
by  those  who  have  Ix^en  r»n  the  ground  some  time,  they 
will  be  worth  hardly  anything.  At  the  summit  they 
are  not  worth  20  cents.  A  week  ago  a  man  could  have 
cleared  from  $icx>  to  $150  per  horse.  There  are  more 
ways  of  making  money  than  by  going  to  Klondike. 

During  the  three-quarters  of  an  hour  I  spent  ashore  I 
saw  the  following : 

A  horse  in  a  cart  suddenly  kicked,  ran  into  a  pile  of 
hay,  broke  l<K>se,  and  started  across  town,  taking  the  cor- 

4^ 


HOW  THE  FREIGHT  IS  LANDED 

ners  of  two  or  three  tents.  After  galloping  about  among 
the  frail  habitations,  he  was  finally  caught  and  led  back. 
Another  horse,  tied  to  a  log  fifteen  feet  long  and  si.\ 
inches  through,  l>egan  to  jerk  and  jump,  and  went  for  a 
hundred  yards  cav»>rting  down  the  main  street, dragging 
another  horse  that  was  hitched  to  the  same  log.  A  horse 
with  a  load  of  two  small  bundles  of  hay  suddenly  fell 
down,  lay  there  a  moment,  then  got  up  and  fell  again. 
This  was  on  level  ground  with  a  light  load. 

Every  man  is  armed — all  with  revolvers,  some  with  re- 
peating-rifles.  One  facetious  packer  who  came  down  to 
the  boat  said:  ** There  are  more  inexperienced  men  to 
the  square  foot  than  in  any  place  I  have  ever  been  to, 
and  more  double-action  revolvers.  They  ought  to  have 
left  them  at  home.  It  would  be  a  charity  for  Mr.  Con- 
stantine  [of  the  mounted  police  at  Dawson]  to  take 
them  all  away,  for  they  will  be  sh<K>ting  themselves." 

Even  at  this  short  distance  it  is  imjjossible  to  learn 
anything  beyond  one's  eye.  There  seems  to  be  a  gen- 
eral movement  towards  Dyea,  but  a  few  are  coming  this 
way.  This  seems  only  natural  when  both  routes  are  con- 
fessedly so  hard.  One  man,  who  had  been  upon  both, 
expressed  himself  thus,  **  Whichever  way  you  go,  you 
w^ill  wish  you  had  gone  the  other." 

In  pursuance  of  the  plan  arrange<l  on  board  the  hi- 
aiuicr^  the  committee  appointed  to  superintend  the  un- 
loading of  the  gtKKls  has  detailed  a  checker  to  act  with 
the  purser  aboard  the  vessel  as  each  piece  comes  out  <»f 
the  hold,  and  another  checker  to  mark  off  each  piece 
as  it  is  received  on  shore.  There  is  proliably  a  hundred 
tons  of  miners*  freight.  Every  man  is  expected  to  handle 
and  look  out  for  his  own  goods.  Some  bring  it  out  of 
the  hold  ;  others  load  it  upon  the  ship's  Ixjats,  which  are 
then  rowed  as  far  in  to  the  beach  as  the  shallow  water  j>er- 

47 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

mits.  Then  two-horse  wapjons  are  driven  alongside,  and 
the  goods  transferred  and  delivered,  at  a  cost  of  a  dollar 
a  load»  a  distance  of  several  hundred  yards  up  towards 
the  town.  The  original  plan  of  roping  out  a  space  has 
been  discarded ;  instead,  the  gix)ds  are  loaded  upon  a  large 


wpuj|gii|j.Mi)UJ»fii«aPi!A|W;#WWi"^'^       'M^^i-  ^-t-^P 


Si*!^*.-- 


LAXDIxn   Onr>r>S    FROM    BOAT  TO   WAGON 


float  that  lies  high  and  dry  well  up  on  the  beach.  Here 
others  of  the  miners  handle  the  gcM)ds  again,  and,  as  far 
as  possible,  put  each  man's  goods  in  a  separate  pile.  It 
is  a  busy  scene — boats  are  coming  and  going  from  the 
ship;  half  a  dozen  teams  are  kept  busy  hauling;  b<»at- 
raen  have  come  up  from  Juneau  and  elsewhere,  with  all 
sorts  of  rowing  and  sailing  craft,  to  reap  the  harvest, 
and  are  shouting  for  passengers  to  the  vessels  in  the 
harbor,  at  25  cents  out  or  50  cents  for  the  round  trip. 
They  are  making  from  $15  to  $20  a  day. 

We  have  learned  already  to  place  no  reliance  uf)on  any 
person's  word.  Every  one  seems  to  have  lost  his  head, 
and  cannot  observe  or  state  facts.  The  very  horses  and 
animals  partake  of  the  fever  and  are  restless.  All  is 
strange  and  unaccustomed  to  both  men  and  animals. 
Accidents  and  runaways  are  occurring  every  few  mo- 

48 


WHAT    ONE    SEES    AT    SKA(J\VAY 

ments.  Suddenly  there  is  a  commolion  ;  a  horse  starts 
off  with  a  half-packed  load  or  a  cart  and  cuts  a  swath 
over  tents  up  through  the  town,  scattering;  the  people 
rijjht  and  left.  Then  all  is  quiet  agjain,  until  a  moment 
later  in  another  part  there  is  another  rumpus.  This  sort 
of  thinjj  is  jjettinj;  to  be  so  common  that  a  fellow  only 
Kx>ks  to  see  that  the  horse  is  not  cominj^  in  the  direction 
of  his  own  tent,  and  then  g<K*s  on  with  his  work.  One 
man  was  asleep  in  his  tent,  lo  x  14,  when  a  horse  j;al- 
loped  throuji^h  it  and  carried  it  off  l)odiIy.  No  one 
gets  hurt,  which  is  amazing.  The  horses  are  green  ; 
the  men  are  green.  Men  who  have  never  before  han- 
dled a  horse  are  trying  to  put  pack-saddles  (»n  them. 
A  few  have  heard  of  the  **  diamond  hitch,"  but  no 
one  seems  to  know  how  to  throw  it.  Xow  and  then  a 
rider,  in  a  loose  blue  shirt,  from  up  the  trail,  comes  can- 
tering down  to  the  beach,  swinging  his  arm  loosely  at 
his  side,  guiding  his  horse  by  a  jaunty  press  of  the  reins 
against  its  neck.  Every  one  recognizes  the  type  of 
Westerner,  and  says,  **  That  man  there  is  all  right." 

A  little  way  back  from  the  beach  are  piles  of  drift- 
wood brought  there  by  storms;  then  there  are  several 
scores  of  tents;  and  then  a  rough  path  which  people  are 
following  leads  towards  the  grove  of  cottonw(WKls,  amid 
which  we  get  glimpses  of  other  tents  and  of  new  board 
shanties,  from  which  the  S4>und  of  axes  and  hammers 
comes  upon  the  ear.  The  tents  here  in  the  oiKrn  are 
all  we  see  of  Skagway.  We  are  too  busy  with  our  affairs 
to  look  beyond.  No  one  is  permitted  to  take  charge  of 
his  goods,  to  carry  them  away,  until  every  parcel  has 
been  landed  and  assorted. 

There   is  a   rumor  that  a  duty  of  $30  a  head   is  to 
be  collected  on  Canadian  horses ;  and  that  our  freight 
will  not  be  delivered  to  us  until  said  duty  has  been  paid. 
I>  49 


r~'»^,«iiiw  w  m  1  '''"tirjjntan^K.  If,  Ml  I    •'>iiff%l— ■— — — WI»B^l'''^ff'*'^-V^'"' 


THE     KLOXDIKE    STAMPEDE 

The  rumor  strikes  consternation  amony:  us  all.     We  arc 
inclined  to  discredit  it,  since  horses,  like  tents  and  blank- 
ets, are  to  be  used  on  l)oth  sides  of  the  line.     We  re- 
member the  pains  we  were  at  to  secure  our  transit  pa- 
pers, and  the  reassuring  words  of  the  American  customs 
officer  who  came  on  at  Mary  Island.     Surely,  if  a  |Hrson 
has  **g^t  to  have"  blankets  and  a  tent,  he  has  *' ^ot  to 
have"  horses.     What  provision  is  there  for  the  refund- 
ing of  the  duty  after  the  horses  with  packs  have  crossed 
the  line  into  Canada?    We  are  left  no  lonjjer  in  doubt. 
A  dap|)er  gentleman  in  an  alpine  hat  and  pointed  brown 
shoes,  hailing  from  Portland.  ( )regon,  has  set  up  on  a  post 
a  small  American   tlag  with  the  perpendicular  stri|)es 
of  the  revenue  service,  announcing  that  he  is  the  dep- 
uty collector  of  customs  for  the  port,  just  arrived,  and 
demands  on  each  and  every  horse  brought  from  Canada 
the  sum  of  $30.    Says  he  :  *'  I  have  my  instructions  from 
the  collector  for  Alaska.     I  don't  know  anything  aN»ut 
tents,  blankets,  etc.,  but  I  must  collect  $30  on  every  Ca- 
nadian horse.     You  can  land  the  horses,  but  you  must 
not  use  them   here.     You   can  send  them  through   in 
charge  of  an  inspector,  but  you  cannot  put  a  |>ack  on 
their  backs ;  if  you  do  you  will  have  to  pay  the  duty — 
that's  all." 

I  ask  him  if  I  may  get  ui>on  the  back  of  a  horse  of  my 
own  and  ride  a  little  way  up  the  trail,  to  see  if  it  is  j>os- 
sible  to  get  over.  "No,  sir,  you  cannot."  I  remind  him 
that  the  horses  will  cross  eventually  into  Canadian  ter- 
ritory. **They  will  be  of  no  use  when  you  get  there, 
and  you  will  turn  them  loose — or  else  you  will  sell  them 
here,"  he  replies. 

Here  is  a  strip  of  territory,  a  few  miles  in  width,  which 
must  be  crossed  before  Canadian  territory  can  again  be 
reached.     There  are  no  facilities  for  the  transit  of  got)ds 

50 


^'PROTECTION"   ROBBED    THE    MIXERS 

in  bond.  Not  one  in  twenty  of  those  here  would  will- 
ingly  stop.  The  privilege  of  bonding  ^oods  through  the 
territory  is  elsewhere  extended  by  both  governments; 
but  here  is  a  trail  three  weeks  old  and  no  facilities  for 
transit.  The  only  means  of  transfer  is  the  miner  him- 
self and  his  horse's  back.  The  miner's  word  is  the  only 
bond.     Even  to  lead  the  horse  across  empty,  the  horse 


»  , 


UNITED   STATFS   CrSTOM-llOUSF.   AND  COMMISSIONER  S  OFFICE,  SKAGWAY 


and  the  man  must  eat,  and  the  man  must  carry  on  his 
own  back  the  oats  for  his  horse,  as  well  as  his  own  food, 
according  to  the  ruling  of  Mr.  Jones,  United  States 
deputy  collector  for  the  sub- port  of  Dyea.  There  is 
nothing  to  do  but  step  up  to  the  custom-house,  look 
pleasant,  and  pay  the  $30  a  head  on  our  stock.  Some- 
body sets  out  to  rtnd  a  high-tariff  Republican,  but  can 

5« 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

not. find  one  in  the  cam|) — no,  I  mistake;  there  is  one, 
who  conies  out  and  pays  his  $30  like  a  man. 

The  custom  -  htnise  is  a  12  x  16- foot,  one -story,  Inward 
structure,  containing  a  counter  at  the  front,  a  stove,  a 
desk,  and  some  chairs  in  the  rear.  Besides  the  customs 
officer,  there  are  two  or  three  other  persons  of  the  famil- 
iar type  of  low-grade  j^jovernment  officials. 

\Ve  did  not  mind  the  remarks  made  by  some  cronies 
of  the  officer,  that  it  "  serves  right  those  who  went  to 
Canada  to  buy  their  stuff,  instead  of  buying  it  in  the 
United  States."  That  is  the  smoke  of  the  Sc*attIe-Victo- 
ria  fight,  and  we  very  pro|)crly  jt»ined  in  the  laugh  that 
folIt>wed  the  sally  of  a  thick  gentleman,  with  a  very  full, 
red  face,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  and  his  feet  on  the  desk,  who 
remarked  that  newspaper  correspondents  es{>ecially  (re- 
ferring to  myself)  should  not  be  let  up  on,  as  they  would 
say  bad  enough  things  anyhow.  But  we  ditl  mind  the 
hardship  which  the  payment  of  this  duty  meant  u|v>n 
most,  if  not  all,  of  us.  Jim  and  the  boy  could  not  afford 
the  duty  on  their  single  horse  each. 

The  custom-house  is  one  of  the  few  wooden  buihl- 
ings  in  town.  It  is  situated  on  the  main  street,  called,  I 
learn,  "  Broadway,"  but  which  is  nothing  more  than  a 
pair  of  black,  muddy  wagon-ruts  winding  around  stum{)s 
in  a  rambling  way  into  the  woods.  A  sign  announces 
the  office  of  the  United  States  commissioner,  (lovern- 
ment  is  further  represented  here  by  a  deputy  marshal. 
Inquiry  reveals  the  fact  that  projK*rly  the  office  of  all 
three  officials  is  at  Dyea,  which  has  been  made  a  sulhport 
of  Juneau  ;  but,  since  the  creati»)n  of  Dyea  as  a  sub-port. 
White  Pass  trail  has  iK'en  opened,  the  town  of  Skagway 
started,  and  practically  all  the  business  attending  upon 
the  carrying-on  of  g<»vernment  has  been  at  Skagway. 
In  order  to  cover  both  points  effectively,  the  court  is 

5« 


FIRST    GLIMPSE    OF    T II H    TRAIL 

held  on  a  point  of  rocks,  known  as  Richard's  Landing, 
half-way  between  the  two  places.  To  this  place  the  cuni- 
missiuner  goes  at  stated  intervals  from  Juneau  and  holds 
court. 

Jim  and  I  each  quietly  mount  a  horse  and  slip  off 
up  the  trail.  Words  that  I  have  at  command  cannot 
describe  what  is  unfoldeil  to  our  eyes.  Only  a  glimpse 
of  the  real  town  did  we   have  f n  ni  the  beach.      Hut 


'^.)i^ 


a^^ '  ■■^s^^ilivSiit^n^ltfili '^iiT^ 


MAIN   STREET,  SK^iOWAY 


here,  where  the  open  leaves  off  and  the  trees  begin, 
and  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than  half  a  mile  from 
low  water,  begins  the  town.  Along  the  main  trail  or 
wagt>n-road  town  lots  have  already  In-en  staked  off  and 
claimed.  The  underbrush  has  been  cleared  away  between 
the  cottonwoods  and  spruce,  which  are  a  foot  or  more 
in  diameter,  and  a  piece  of  pajxrr  on  the  face  of  a  tree 
announces  that 

"This  ^ot,  loo  feet  along  the  trail  by  50  feel  west,  located  and 
improved  by  J.  Murphy,  August  14,  't/7.     Lot  supposed  to  front 

5J 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

on  street  runninjj  cast  and  west  accordinj;  to  plot  made  and  rati- 
fied by  the  citizens,  August  13,  '97.     See  my  notices  on  stakes  at 

N.  and  E.  end  of  lot. 

"(Signed)  J.  F.  Ml  RPHY." 

The  **  improvement  *'  consists  of  .1  few  bushes  cleared 
away  to  make  r(K)m  for  a  small  **A"  tent.  The  owner 
seemed  to  have  moved  onward,  leaving;,  however,  his  "im- 
provement **  up<m  the  land. 

Another  notice  reads,  in  terse  lanv^uapje,  that  **  this 
claim,  50  by  100,  is  claimed  by  J.  H.  F<K)t";  an<l  others 
add  the  names  of  several  competent  witnesses. 

Scattered  on  both  sides  of  the  trail  are  tents  of  every 
size  and  one  or  two  wooden  buildings.  A  ceaseless 
stream  of  men  and  horses  is  moving  up  the  trail  with 
loads,  and  a  stream  is  returning;  empty.  Here  at  the 
left  is  a  big  tent  with  large  black  letters  on  the  side ;  it 
is  the  ** Pack  Train  "saloon.  Beyond  are  the  **  Bonanza" 
and  **The  Grotto,"  while  across  the  street  a  great  sign 
overhead  bears  the  suggestive  name  of  **  The  Nugget." 
A  glimpse  inside  of  these,  as  one  rides  by,  shows  a  few 
boards  set  up  for  a  bar  in  one  corner,  the  other  corners 
being  filled  with  gambling  lay-outs,  around  which  are 
crowds  of  men  playing  or  l<M»king  on.  Then  come  shops 
where  groceries  and  miners*  supplies  are  being  bought 
and  sold.  Here  a  doctor  has  set  up  an  apothecary  shop; 
here  two  young  New  York  boys  are  selling  their  outfit  and 
••waiting  till  spring."  Large  painted  canvas  signs  an- 
nounce eating-houses  —  the  "  Rosalie,"  the  **  Kitchen" — 
but  there  is  not  a  hxlging  -  house  in  the  place.  For  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  into  the  w<hkIs  run  the  rows  of  tents, 
while  back  fn»m  the  trail,  and  next  to  the  river,  the 
sound  of  axes  indicates  that  the  whole  of  the  flat  is  being 
taken  up.     Here  and  there  is  a  log-hut  going  up. 

Some  of  the  new  arrivals  have  brought  little  carts — 

54 


A    RUNAWAY    HORSE 

a  pair  of  btijjjjy-wheels  on  a  short  axle,  having:  a  bed  in 
some  cases  not  more  than  fifteen  inches  wide  and  six  to 
eight  feet  lonjj.  with  handles  at  both  ends.  They  load 
these  carts  with  five  or  six  hundred  {)ounds  of  stuff, 
and  two  men  work  them  along  up  the  trail  ;  or,  if  they 
have  a  horse,  they  load  the  pack-saddle,  then  hitch  the 
horse  in  front  and  start  along,  one  leading  the  horse,  the 
other  steering  and  balancing  the  cart  from  the  rear  end. 


"A   WkrroR    HAS    SET   CP   AN    Ar<»THECARV    SHOP ' 


It  is  an  odd  sight.  One  horse,  when  ready  to  be  loaded 
beside  the  scow,  became  frightt?ned,  and  started  up  town 
with  the  cart  behind  him.  He  ran  into  the  town,  then 
turned  at  right  angles,  cn»ssed  a  branch  of  the  Skag- 
way,  starit^  cart  and  all,  up  the  face  of  the  mountain, 
turner'  ^round,  recrossed  the  river,  and  came  back  to  the 
scow,  the  cart  now  running  right  side  up ;  then,  striking  a 

55 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

root  and  bouncing  ten  ifcet  into  the  air,  it  landed  upside- 
down.  The  cart  never  ceased  fur  more  than  a  moment 
to  run  alonjj,  right  or  wrong  side  up,  on  its  wheels;  not 
a  man  was  hurt  nor  a  tent-i)eg  torn  up,  and  it  all  t<M»k 
place  in  full  view,  and  the  crowd  greeted  with  a  shout  each 
time  the  cart  flew  up  and  landed  all  right.  A  moment 
later  the  incident  was  forgotten.  These  little  carts  cost 
$30.  In  a  day  or  two  they  carry  a  whole  t»utfit  of  two 
or  three  to  the  **  Foot  of  the  Hill,"  and  then  are  sold  for 
what  they  cost.  Others  pack  directly  on  horses*  backs, 
while  the  greater  portion  of  the  freight  is  carrieil  by  two- 
horse  wagi)ns  for  i]  cents  a  pound.  I  met  two  fellows 
packing  on  l)icycles.  They  had  taken  off  the  petlals,  and 
had  rigged  a  sort  of  frame  on  the  seat,  u|>on  which  they 
packed  nearly  as  much  stuff  as  a  horse  will  carry — viz., 
2.20  to  225  pounds. 

Money  goes  like  water  through  a  sieve.  It  costs  a  dol- 
lar to  look  a  man  in  the  face.  Men  are  like  wolves  :  they 
literally  feed  upon  one  another.  Wages  for  packers — 
any  one  who  can  carry  75  to  100  pounds  on  his  back  and 
work  ten  hours  —  are  $7.50  a  day  upward.  "Experi- 
enced" horse-packers  are  getting  as  high  as — in  one  in- 
stance— $20  a  day.  The  teamsters  are  making  more  than 
that.  One  was  heard  growling  because  he  had  only  made 
$50  that  day;  they  sometimes  make  $100.  Horse>hoe- 
nails  are  $1  a  pound  at  Skagway;  at  the  ''Foot  of  the 
Hill,"  10  cents  apiece ;  and  a  single  horseshoe,  $2.50. 
Rubber  boots  worth  $5  sell  for  $9.  A  shoemaker,  a 
blacksmith,  a  watchmaker,  also,  have  set  up  shop.  A 
constant  surprise  is  the  number  of  women.  Some  of 
these  are  at  the  dance-house,  but  the  majority  are  the 
wives  of  miners.  There  is  but  one  child  in  the  whole 
place.  It  is  a  town  of  g^own-up  people.  The  women 
dress,  some  of  them,  in  short  skirts,  with  leather  leg- 


THE    SKAOWAY    R  I  V  IC  R 

ginjjs  or  rubber  boots,  or  else   in   out-and-out  men's 
trousers. 

There  has  been  no  disorder  to  speak  of.  E.xceptinjj 
the  jjamblers,  there  are  few  who  niij^ht  l>e  said  to  rep- 
resent a  disorderly  element.  And  this,  no  doubt,  is  due 
to  the  fact  that  every  man  here,  except  those  who  have 
come  up  from  the  nearby  tiAvns  of  Juneau  and  Sitka, 
have  had  to  have  the  price  to  jjet  in.  This  is  no  country 
for  tramps  and  loafers. 


A    LKADi.NO    HOTEL 


I  Stop  and  ask  a  man  what  is  the  name  of  the  main 
street.  **Oh,  don't  ask  me/'  he  replies.  "  I've  been  here 
a  week,  and  I  come  up  here  every  day,  and  1  jjet  lost." 
All  is  movement  and  action.  There  is  nothing  fixed. 
The  tent  of  yesterday  is  a  wcxKien  building  to-day. 
A  smooth  spot  and  some  tent -pin  holes  show  where  a 
tent  stood  yesterday. 

The  Skagway   River  is  a  swift   stream   of   three  or 

57 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

f«»ur  rods*  width  at  its  mouth.  It  rises  far  away  in 
the  midst  of  the  bhie  peaks  of  the  Chilkoots,  which 
grow  bhier  and  bluer  until  they  mer^e  into  the  sky. 
The  sides  of  the  mountains  slope  at  an  anj^le  of  some 
forty -five  degrees,  and  against  their  t«»j>s  lie  eternal 
glaciers  and  patches  of  snow.  The  river's  current  is 
even  but  forceful,  and  so  swift  as  anywhere  to  iKMr  a 
man  off  his  feet,  even  though  no  deeper  than  to  his 
knees.  Its  water  Is  milky,  from  the  setliment  it  bears 
down  fn>m  the  mountains,  and  its  hanks  are  scarcely 
more  than  two  or  three  feet  high.  e.\lending  back  per- 
fectly level  on  either  one  or  both  sides  to  the  steep  sides 
of  the  vallev,  and  covered  with  a  dark  loamv  soil  from 
the  decaying  vegetation  of  centuries  and  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  cott«>nw«>ods,  spruces.  fiemI<K:ks,  and  white 
birches.  The  trail  reminds  one  of  any  newly  cut  road  in 
the  forests  of  the  Adirondacks  or  Canada.  At  a  distance 
of  a  mile  and  a  half  from  low  water  it  crosses  the  river 
from  the  right  hand  to  the  left  by  a  Iot  bridge,  built 
by  the  miners,  wide  enough  for  the  pack-trains  and  the 
hand-carts,  but  too  narrow  for  the  large  wagons,  which 
ba%'e  to  unload  on  the  gravelly  bank. 

Leaving  the  river,  the  trail  leads  on  for  s<ome  two  miles. 
Tents  are  scattered  along  the  way,  and  one  is  never 
oat  of  sight  of  men  c«»ming  or  going.  AU»ut  four  miles 
and  a  sight  meets  the  eye.  The  sf>at*e  between  the  tree 
trunks  has  been  cleared  of  underbrush,  and  is  filled  with 
tents,  side  by  side,  only  a  few  feet  apart,  on  both  sides  of 
the  trail,  and  extending  Ixick  the  width  of  the  valley, 
which  is  here  quite  narr<»w.  The  men  have  set  up  their 
$tovesand  hung  out  hundreds  of  pounds  of  Ijacon  to  dry, 
and  the  air  is  laden  with  the  savorv  smell  of  smoked 
meat  and  the  camp-fires;  for  it  is  evening,  and  the 
men   are   returning  from  the  trail.     Weary  horses  are 


c 
v. 

0« 

B 


> 


X 


r 


AT    THE    ''FOOT    OF    THE    HILL" 

• 

eating  hay  and  oats  alongside  tarpaulin-covered  piles  of 
goods. 

There  are  fifty  '^r  sixty  tents  in  all,  and  the  roadway  be- 
tween is  packed  smmuhly  by  hundreds  of  feet.  There 
are  more  women  here — one  is  baking  biscuit  and  selling 
them  hot  for  2$  cents  a  dozen.  All  are  cutting  down 
outfits.  The  wagon-road  stops,  and  now  what  seems  to 
be  only  a  f<H>t-path  makes  a  sudden  turn  to  the  left  and 
boldly  climbs  up  the  steep  mountain-side.  This  is  the 
trail,  this  the  Hill,  and  the  crowds  of  tents  and  men 
make  the  town  at  the  "  Foot  of  the  Hill"  the  resting-spot 
before  the  struggle.  We  hitch  our  horses  and  proceed 
on  foot.  To  convey  an  idea  of  the  Hill,  one  must  have 
recourse  to  illustration,  and  I  can  find  none  more  apt 
than  that  used  by  one  who  has  been  over  it :  **  Imagine  a 
mountain  of  gooils-bo.xes»  some  of  them  being  bigger  than 
the  rest — the  size  of  tents."  Imagine  them  piled  in  a 
rough  mass,  cover  them  with  moss  and  black  loam  and 
trees,  with  rills  of  water  trickling  down  among  them. 
The  goo<l.s-boxes  are  granite  bowlders  ;  their  outer  sur- 
faces protrude  from  the  mass,  hard  and  bare,  but  nature 
has  covered  the  rest  with  rich  vegetation.  The  path — 
if,  indeed,  it  can  be  called  one — twists  and  turns  and 
worms  its  way  from  ledge  to  ledge  and  between  the 
masses  of  bowlders.  Here  a  tree  has  been  cut  down, 
and  we  clamber  over  its  stump.  There  a  corduroy 
bridge  lifts  one  over  a  brook.  Men  with  stout  alpen- 
stocks and  with  packs  painfully  struggle  upward,  stop- 
ping now  and  again  for  rest.  It  has  been  compara- 
tively dry  for  a  day,  and  the  trail  is  said  to  be  not  so  bad. 
Between  the  bowlders  it  has  packed  fairly  well,  and,  but 
for  its  steepness,  would  be  called  a  gcxxl  path.  We  as- 
cend a  distance  of  several  hundred  feet — not  quite  to 
the  top,  we  are  told.     On  every  ledge  and  bench  tents 

61 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

are  set  up,  or  piles  of  sacks,  so  near  the  path  that  one  can 
reach  out  one's  hand  and  touch  them.  Men  in  fmm  the 
day's  work  are  cookinjj  or  reclinini^  l)esiilc  their  ^oods. 
Their  riHes  are  in  easy  reach.  I'ilferin^  has  hccn  ^oin^ 
on,  and  the  men  who  are  lying  by  their  goods  w  ill  shoot 
at  sight.  A  string  of  horses  and  mules  is  returning 
down  the  Hill,  and  we  see  now  the  dirterence  in  horses. 


JUSTIFIABLE   HHSIT.\TIOM 


The  lank,  big,  clumsy  horse  is  in  danger  at  every  step. 
He  comes  to  a  drop-off.  lifts  his  head  in  air,  tt>sses  his 
fore -feet  ahead  with  a  groan,  and  trusts  to  chance  to 
find  a  f(X)ting.  He  strikes  a  sloping  r<>ck.  tlounders  for 
a  fo<Hhold,  and  down  he  goes  sideways  and  rolls  over.  A 
string  of  several  dozen  went  past,  but  none  -actually 
fell.     The  little  cayuse,  or  Indian  pony,  however,  like  the 

62 


HOW    THE    HORSES    FALL 

mules,  looks  where  every  foot  is  placed  One  cayuse  got 
out  of  the  train  and  came  to  a  pitch-»>tf  of  ten  or  twelve 
feet;  we  ltK>ked  to  see  it  break  its  neck,  but  it  simply 
put  its  head  d<>wn,sliil  over  the  face  of  the  bowlder,  and 
landed  squarely  and  liv^htly  as  a  goat.  Another  which 
we  just  heard  of  went  down  a  forty-foot  bank,  and  was 
!)ack  on  the  trail  workinjj  next  day.  We  set  out  <lown 
the  Hill  ajjain.  When  we  are  near  the  bottom  we  meet 
a  small  train  cominjj:  up  in  charyje  of  two  men. 

At  the  ftM)t  of  the  steep  ascent  the  train  stops  and 
one  horse  jjocs  ahead.  He  comes  to  a  step-up  of  over 
two  feet,  he  gets  his  fore -feet  up.  gives  a  desperate 
lunge  to  get  his  hind-parts  up,  slij^s.  and  falls,  his  wh«»le 
weight  and  that  of  his  load  falling  on  the  sharp  top  t»f 
a  stump,  where  he  flounders  and  kicks  pitifully.  We 
help  the  men  cut  the  load  off,  roll  him  over  on  his  back 
off  the  stump,  and  help  him  to  his  feet,  and  he  gets  up 
with  scarcely  a  scratch.  That  is  one  fall,  the  rtrst  we 
have  seen.  We  are  told  that  fifty  horses  a  day  fall  here. 
No  one  thinks  anything  al>out  it.  The  other  horses  are 
led  up,  one  by  one,  the  men  choosing  each  step  for 
them.  This  seems  to  be  the  only  way  to  do  with  h»>rscs 
that  are  not,  like  goats,  used  to  looking  where  a  f«H>t  goes 
down.  Most  of  the  falls  occur  where  two  smooth  sur- 
faces of  rock  come  together  in  a  notch,  furnishing  m* 
foothold.  If  there  is  soft  mud  in  the  nt»tch.and  the  sides 
are  wet  and  slippery,  the  horse  gt>es  down  with  a  smash, 
and  it  is  lucky  if  a  broken  leg  d<.>es  not  result. 


CHAPTER   IV 

Pack-hoiNcs  go  to  r>>'ea — Life  in  Skagway — Fx|^ricnces  of  OMTimers — 
Start  on  the  SLaj^May  Trail— Terrors  of  the  Trail  — DeaJ  Horses — 
Mud  an«l  k<Kk'« — TerriMe  Coiulition  of  Men  and  Hor>es — A  Ni^ht 
Camji — Trail  fU^^tl  until  Rejuirs  are  Made— Keturn  to  Skagway 

'O-DAV  a  proposition  is  matle  by  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Charles  Lead- 
better,  of  San  Francisco,  who  is  just 
over  from  Dyea,  to  take  all  our  stuff", 
not  exceeding  three  thousand  pmunds 
when  delivered  to  him  at  Dyea ;  tt» 
team  it  thence  to  the  head  of  canoe  naviyfatiim  ;  there 
put  it  on  his  pack  -  train,  which  will  carry  it  to  The 
Scales,  which  is  at  the  foot  of  the  summit ;  there 
two  men  will  be  jjiven  us  to  help  us  pack  our  stuff^ 
over  the  summit  —  a  distance  of  from  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  to  a  mile  to  Crater  Lake ;  there  we  will 
have  to  ferry  it  over  the  lake,  when  it  will  be  jtaken 
on  a  burro  train  to  Long  Lake,  where  there  is  an- 
other ferry,  and  then  again  on  the  burros  to  Lake 
Lindeman,  which  is  the  j>oint  of  departure.  We  shall 
be  expected  to  help  with  the  pack  -  train,  if  neces- 
sary, and  all  this  he  will  do  in  return  for  our  eight 
horses.  It  seems  a  reasonable  proposition,  except 
that  we  are  surprised  at  the  time  allowed  —  namely, 
four  or  five  days  —  for  making  the  trij)  through  to 
Lake  Lindeman.     It  is  agreeable  news  that  goods  are 

6* 


THE    SxVLOOX    IX    SKAGWAY 

moving  right  along  on  the  Dyea  trail.  We  still  have  no 
doubt  of  getting  through  White  Pass,  but  we  gladly  hail 
any  proposition  which  will  land  us  quickly  and  without 
great  trouble  at  the  head  of  navigati*>n  of  the  Yukon. 

The  terras  do  not  include  our  bi>at  lumber.  We  are 
advised  to  cut  it  into*  lengths  of  seven  feet,  suitable  for 
horse-packing,  but  it  has  come  thus  far  in  whole  lengths, 
and  we  desire  to  keep  it  s«>  as  long  as  possible.  Accord- 
ingly, we  deliver  our  horses,  with  a  ton  of  feed,  to  the 
packer,  who  takes  them  over  on  a  sci»w  in  tow  of  a  tug- 
boat, which  makes  trips  between  Dyea  and  Skagway  as 
often  and  at  such  times  as  the  tide  permits.  The  cost 
for  transportation  is  $io  a  head.  Our  intention  is  to 
follow  at  the  earliest  date. 

There  is  no  shady  side  to  life  at  Skagway  ;  everything 
goes  on  in  broad  daylight  or  candle-light-  After  supper 
every  tent  is  lighted  up,  and  the  streets  are  crowded 
with  muddy  men  in  from  the  trail.  The  **  Pack  Train  ** 
is  filled  with  people,  among  whom  I  recognize  several  of 
ray  friends,  who  are  drawn  hither,  like  myself,  by  the 
spectacle.  The  tent  of  the  biggest  saloon  in  town  is 
thirty  by  fifty  feet.  Entering  through  a  single  door  in 
front,  on  the  right  hand  is  a  rough  board  bar  some  ten 
or  twelve  feet  long,  with  some  shelves  against  the  rear 
wall,  on  which  are  a  few  glasses  and  bottles.  The  bar- 
tender, who  is  evidently  new  to  his  business,  apologizc^s , 
for  the  whiskey,  which  is  very  poor  and  two-thirds  water, 
and  sells  for  25  cents.  Cigars  of  a  two-for-five  or  five- 
cent  sort,  that  strain  one's  suction  powers  to  the  limit, 
are  sold  for  from  15  to  25  cents  each.  They  keep  beer 
also,  on  tap.  After  the  lecture  we  received  on  the 
steamer  from  the  United  States  customs  officer,  we  are 
at  a  loss  to  understand  how  whiskey  can  be  sold  openly 
under  the  very  eyes  of  the  officers.  But  that  is  a  story 
*  65 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

by  itself.  Along  each  side  of  the  tent  are  the  three- 
card  monte,  the  rouge-et-noir,  and  other  lay-outs,  but 
not  a  faro  lay-out  in  the  place  nor  in  the  town.  The 
gamblers  are  doing  big  business. 

A  big,  strapping  fellow,  in  a  yellow  Mackinaw  jacket, 
trying  his  luck  at  craps,  is  pointed  out  as  having  just  come 


•* 


c,rTP# 


J  v; 


/ 


.-■-'L<a 


*\ 


{ 


T. 


A  FtOFTTABLE    ENTERPRISE 

in  over  the  trail  from  Klondike.*  Whether  he  has  any 
dust  with  him  I  do  not  learn,  but  he  is  in  fine  health  and 
spirits.  Every  man  whom  I  have  yet  seen  from  Kkmdike 
has  a  splendid  complexion  and  seems  strong  and  robust. 
This  fellow  has  a  voice  like  a  lion's,  deep  and  resonant. 
Surely  the  Yukon  cannot  be  so  terrible  if  it  does  this  to 
men,  or  else  its  tale  of  death  is  that  of  the  weak  and  sickly. 


♦  Ramps  Peterson,  a  well-known  Yukon  dog-puncher. 

66 


TESTIMONY    OF    OLD-TIMERS 

Across  the  street  the  sound  of  a  piano  and  the  moving 
figures  of  men  and  women  seen  through  the  windows  re- 
mind one  that  there  is  a  dance  to-night,  as  on  every  night. 
This  piano  is  the  only  one  in  town,  and  its  arrival  is  said 
to  have  been  an  event.  The  four  women  in  the  place 
are  not  even  of  the  painted  sort ;  paint  might  have  cov- 
ered up  some  of  the  marks  of  dissipation.  Clumsy  b<K>ts 
beat  time  on  a  dirty  rttK>r,  but  not  with  much  enthusi- 
asm. There  is  not  sport  enough  to  get  up  as  much  as  a 
quadrille.  The  dance-house  of  a  mining-town  !  Such  a 
thing  as  shame  is  not  even  thought  of. 

Among  the  many  who  are  gazing  upon  the  unaccus- 
tomed scene,  with  the  same  absorbed  interest  as  the 
youngest  of  us,  are  men  whom  I  take  to  be  old-timers. 
I  asked  one  of  these  what  he  thought  of  it  all. 

Said  he:  **  I  was  in  the  Salmon  River  mining  excite- 
ment in  Idaho,  but  I  have  never  seen  anything  like  this. 
Ten  thousand  people  went  in  that  winter,  over  a  single 
trail  across  the  mountains ;  but  it  was  nothing  like  this. 
There  has  never  been  anything  on  this  coast  like  it." 

Another,  who  is  now  the  mayor  of  a  town  on  the  Pa- 
cific coast  not  far  from  the  Strait  of  Fuca,  said,  in  an- 
swer to  the  same  question:  "I  saw  the  beginning  of 
Leadville,  but  it  was  nothing  like  this ;  there  has  been 
nothing  like  this.** 

Still  another,  a  mining  engineer  from  California,  said  :• 
**  I  have  never  seen  people  act  as  they  do  here.  They 
have  lost  their  heads  and  their  senses.  I  have  never 
seen  men  behave  as  they  do  here.  They  have  no  more 
idea  of  what  they  are  going  to  than  that  horse  hxs.  There 
was  one  fellow  in  the  tent  alongside  of  mine — I  saw  him 
greasing  his  rubber  boots.  I  said  to  him,  *  What  are  you 
doing  that  for  ?'  *  Why,  isn't  that  all  right  ?*  he  asked. 
Another  man  came  along  and  asked  a  fellow  where  his 

67 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

mining-pan  was.  The  fellow  said,  *  I  haven't  seen  any 
mining-pan.'  Just  then  the  man  saw  the  pan  lying  along- 
side the  tent,  and  said,  '  Here  it  is  I  Is  that  a  mining- 
pan?    I  didn't  know  that  was  a  mining-pan.'  " 

I  have  talked  with  many  others,  some  who  had  been  in 
the  Cceur  d'Alene  excitement  on  Salmt»n  River,  Idaho, 
and  have  been  miners  since  '53  and  '54.  S)me,  whose 
fathers  were  of  the  old  *49's,  say  the  same  thing — that  the 
country  has  gone  mad  over  this  Klondike  business.  And 
all  agree  as  to  the  reason — nowadays  the  news  is  carried 
by  the  telegraph  and  newspaper  to  all  parts  of  the  world, 
whereas  formerly  the  excitement  was  all  local,  and  had 
died  away  before  word  of  it  reached  the  rest  of  the  world. 

No  one  pretends  to  follow  the  changes  that  are  going 
on  here.  Those  who  have  been  here  a  week  are  old- 
timers.  When  the  next  boat  arrives  people  will  ask 
questions  of  us  in  turn.  • 

The  work  of  unloading  the  vessel  continues.  Most  of 
the  hay  and  the  lumber  has  been  loaded  up)on  a  scow  and 
hauled  inshore,  so  that  the  vessel  can  clear  for  the  south 
on  time.  As  the  quickest  way  to  get  the  lumber  off,  six 
or  seven  of  us  take  hold  of  the  scow,  throw  the  lumber 
into  the  water,  and  raft  it  ashore.  It  is  noon  before  we 
discover  that  it  is  Sunday.  Sunday  makes  no  difference 
in  Skagway.  All  the  goi>ds  are  now  landed,  and  each 
man  is  carrying  away  what  belongs  to  him — also  some 
that  doesn't  belong  to  him,  if  there  are  any  grounds  for 
the  vigorous  complaints  made  lo  the  checkers.  After 
the  confusion  aboard  in  the  hold,  the  wonder  is  that  any 
one  gets  what  belongs  to  him. 

It  is  raining  again  to-night.  None  of  the  weather 
signs  we  are  accustomed  to  in  the  East  holds  good  here. 
A  man  who  lived  six  years  back  of  the  Chilkoot  Moun- 

68 


LYNN    CANAL 

tains  says  that  in  this  part  of  Alaska,  at  this  time  of  the 
year,  it  will  be  clear  and  cold  for  four  days,  and  then  it 
will  rain  four  days.  It  has  rained  the  four  days  all 
right,  and  we  are  looking  for  the  four  sunny  ones.  This 
wet  weather  is  di.scouraging.    Every  one  feels  miserable. 

Day  breaks  clear.  It  is  full  daylight  at  five  or  six. 
The  sky  is  cloudless  and  the  air  is  warm.  Every  one  is 
happy. 

I  engage  a  man,  who  hails  from  Texas,  with  a  thirty- 
foot  dory  (which  he  says  came  up  in  piece?  from  San 
Francisco  to  go  over  the  mountain,  and  which  he  pur- 
chased f«>r  a  few  dollars  at  the  beach),  to  take  all  my 
stuff  to  Dyea.  The  wind  is  piping  up  Lynn  Canal,  toss- 
ing up  the  white-caps,  and  heavy  breakers  are  rolling  in 
on  the  beach.  Our  skipper  is  sure  of  his  boat,  so  we 
take  my  own  twelve  hundred  pounds,  with  the  boat  lum- 
ber, a  ton  of  hay  and  oats,  and  a  thousand  pounds  of 
baggage  belonging  to  one  of  my  fellow-passengers  on  the 
hiandcry  who  has  seen  both  trails,  and  pronounces  un- 
hesitatingly in  favor  of  Dyea.  He  is  Monsieur  I'Abbc, 
a  lumberman  and  merchant  from  Port  Arthur,  Lake  Su- 
perior. 

Lynn  Canal  is  a  long,  deep  trench  between  towering 
mountains,  like  a  great  fresh-water  lake.  The  water  is 
only  slightly  salt  to  the  taste.  It  is  hard  to  believe  that 
it  is  the  sea.  It  is  as  cold  as  the  melting  ice  from  scores 
of  glaciers  on  the  mountain-tops  can  make  it,  and  a  man 
could  not  swim  twenty  yards  in  such  a  chill.  It  is  a 
marvel  that  any  of  the  horses  thrown  overboard  reached 
shore. 

After  a  dangerous  passage  through  the  heavy  seas  that 
nearly  swamp  us  with  our  top-heavy  load,  we  round  the 

69 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

point  of  rocks,  and,  with  the  wind  behind  us,  are  driven 
rapidly  towards  the  mouth  of  the  Dyea  pass.  We  follow 
the  right-hand  shore,  where  the  rocks  tx>ldly  rise  per- 
pendicularly from  the  water,  and  presently  meet  a  swift 
current  in  the  mouth  of  the  Dyea  River,  a  stream  twice 
the  size  of  the  Skagway,  flowing  seaward  through  a 
broad  alluvial  plain. 

We  go  a  little  way,  wading  and   dragging   the   !)oat 
against  the  current,  and  land  in  the  midst  of  a  number  of 


"  ,'*?'-»^»*!r^  .A.-.• 


-«.  "^  ^    1  «* 


A  View   OF    l>VKA 


tents  and  piles  of  baggage.  Leadbetter  himself  is  not 
here,  but  his  teamster  and  wagon  are.  s<»,  leaving  word 
with  Monsieur  I'AbtxS  and  another  that  my  stuff  has  ar- 
rived, I  go  back  to  Skagway.  After  a  des[)erate  tussle 
against  the  wind,  making  almost  no  headway,  we  go 
ashore  in  a  cove,  and  reach  Skagway  af<K>t. 

During  a  temporary  absence  of  Jim  and  the  boy  a  run- 
away steer  kicked  some  sparks  from  a  tire  against  the 
back  of  the  tent,  which  had  burned  out  half  the  end  of  the 
tent  before  neighbors  extinguished  it.  This  is  the  story, 
but  I  think  the  wind  blew  the  sparks  from  said  neigh- 

70 


START    ON    THE    SKAGWAY    TRAIL 

bors*  camp-fire.  The  fire,  however,  burned  the  cover 
and  part  of  the  leather  off  my  camera,  yet  without  hurt- 
ing the  camera.  It  destroyed  the  tripod  cover  without 
touching  the  tripod;  it  burned  the  gun-case  without 
hurting  the  rifle;  it  burned  some  twenty  pages  of  my 
diary,  but  took  the  back,  where  there  was  no  writing, 
instead  of  the  front  leaves.  The  actual  loss  was  a  few 
envelopes.     Altogether  a  remarkable  escape. 

Jim  and  Burghardt  are  ready  to  go  to  Dyea  ;  so,  giv- 
ing them  directions,  I  take  my  5x7  camera  and  start  in 
on  the  Skagway  trail.  With  the  perversity  of  Alaska 
weather,  it  begins  to  rain  by  the  time  the  "  Fcx)t  of  the 
Hiir*  is  reached.  There  are  only  a  few  horses  moving  in 
at  this  time  of  day.  At  the  summit  of  the  Hill  the  nar- 
row trail  follows  the  steep  bank  of  a  ravine,  and  here 
we  see  the  first  victim  of  the  trail — a  horse  lying  at  the 
foot  of  the  bank,  twenty  feet  down,  beside  a  small  stream. 
It  is  dead  now,  but  before  it  died  st^)me  stakes  were  driven 
around  it  to  keep  it  out  of  the  water. 

Just  now  we  met  a  man  who  says  that  a  horse  has  just 
tumbled  off  the  trail  and  down  in  a  hole  between  two 
or  three  immense  bowlders,  and  that  only  its  head  is 
sticking  out,  and  that  it  is  alive.  We  keep  on  along  com- 
paratively level  bowlder -strewn  ground,  and  evidently 
pass  the  spot  indicated,  which  is  not  surprising,  as  bushes 
and  trees  cover  every  spt^t  and  hide  the  treacherous  holes. 
We  are  going  on  firm  bottom,  with  numerous  corduroys 
over  muck-holes,  but  ankle-deep  in  sloppy,  slimy,  choco- 
late-colored mud.  It  looks  perhaps  worse  than  it  is. 
Horses  and  men,  bags  and  pack-covers,  are  dyed  with 
this  brown  stain.  Again  the  trail  mounts  the  slope  of 
the  mountain,  by  a  way  so  rocky  that  it  would  seem  as 
if  no  horse  could  get  up  it.  The  smooth,  flat  sides  of 
rocks  slope  inward,  affording  no  foothold  to  a  horse. 

71 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMI'T  DE 


We  meet  a  young  man  t>n  horseback  cnniinij  ch^A'n  the 
worst  of  these  places.  We  step  aside  and  crse  under 
our  breath  the  man  who  would  ride  a  horse  dovn  such  a 
place.    We  did  not  know  then  that  he  had  a  broken  foot. 

A  corduroy 
bridge,  sloping 
at  an  angle  of 
fully  forty  de- 
grees, was  so<in 
afterwards  put 
^vm^  over  the  whole 
rGi  length  of  this 
pitch.  The 
logs  give  a 
hold  to  the 
shoe-calks  that 
the  rocks  do 
not.  Where 
the  horses 
slide  and 
^  scrape  the 
rocks  it  looks 
like  the  work 
of  chisels. 

The    trail 
climbs    from 
terrace  to  ter- 
race, or  fol- 
lows the  brink 
of  perpendicu- 
lar  cliffs,  but 
all  IS   so  covered  with    luxurious   vegetation   that   the 
heights  above  and  the  depths  below  do  not  impress  one. 
We  come  to  an  empty  pack-saddle,  and  know  something 

73 


PACKING   OVER    THE   HILL 


TERRORS    OF    THE    SKACiWAY    TRAIL 

has  happened  here,  as  down  the  mountain-side  the  bush- 
es are  bruised,  as  if  some  heavy  body  had  rolled  down. 
We  need  no  one  to  tell  us  that  over  the  cliff  a  horse  has 
rolled  hundreds  of  feet,  and  lies  out  of  sight  amonjj  the 
bushes.  Ajjain  an  almost  unbearable  stench  announces 
an  earlier  victim. 

Every  man  we  meet  tells  of  the  trials  of  the  trail. 
Anxious  and  weary  are  they.  I  saw  one  half-way  up  a 
hill  asleep  on  his  pack,  with  his  closed  eyes  towards  the 
sky  and  the  rain  pattering  on  his  face,  which  was  as  pale 
as  death.  It  gave  me  a  start,  until  I  noticed  his  deep 
breathing.  A  little  way  on  three  horses  lie  dead,  two  of 
them  half  burieti  in  the  black  quagmire,  and  the  horses 
step  over  their  bodies,  without  a  look,  and  painfully 
struggle  on.  Now  (only  two  miles  by  survey,  but  three 
or  four  to  ever>*  one  who  passes  over)  the  trail  begins  its 
steep  plunge  down  the  side  of  Porcupine  Ridge,  switch- 
ing back  and  forth.  At  the  turns  it  seems  as  if  nothing 
could  prevent  a  loaded  horse  from  going  clean  over. 
The  bank  goes  downward  nearly  perpendicular  several 
hundred  feet,  when  one  lands  in  the  narrow  gorge  of 
the  Porcupine,  a  branch  of  the  Skagway.  Here  are 
more  tents  —  another  breathing -spot.  The  Porcupine 
is  crossed  by  a  corduroy  bridge,  and  the  ascent  begins 
again.  The  surface  of  the  rocks  is  now  more  in  evi- 
dence, and  the  trail  leads  over  these,  slippery  with  tram-, 
pled  mud. 

Gradually,  stage  by  stage,  the  trail  rises,  following  the 
sloping  shelves  of  bare  rock,  so  smooth  as  to  afford  no 
foothold.  In  one  place,  for  two  or  three  hundred  feet, 
the  shelf  that  the  trail  follows  slopes  upward,  and  at  the 
same  time  outward,  A  horse  here  needs  something 
more  than  calked  shoes  to  hold  on  by.  Xo  safe  trail  can 
be  made  until  steps  are  cut  bodily  into  these  places. 

73 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Where  there  are  no  rocks  there  are  boggy  holes.  It  is 
all  rocks  and  mud — rocks  and  mud. 

Suddenly  the  trail  opens  out  on  the  mountain-side, 
and  a  magnificent  view  is  presented  to  the  eye.  Across 
the  valley  a  rugged  mountain,  sloping,  a  mile  in  height ; 
and  down  far  away  to  the  westward  the  blue  hills  and  the 
smoke  of  Skagway,  with  Lynn  Canal  showing  a  three- 
cornered  patch  of  lighter  color.     It  is  magnificent. 

Five  or  six  hundred  feet  below  we  can  hear  the  roar  of 
the  waters.  Another  pitch  downward  and  we  are  again 
on  the  Skagway  River.  Why  the  trail  did  not  follow  the 
Skagway,  without  climbing  these  two  terrible  ridges, 
none  of  us  can  comprehend.  The  railway,  of  course,  will 
follow  the  river-bed,  or  else  tunnel  through  the  Chil- 
koot  Mountains,  Tents  and  piles  of  gixxls  are  scattered 
thickly  along  the  trail.  No  one  knows  how  many  people 
there  are.  We  guess  five  thousand — there  may  be  more 
— and  two  thousand  head  of  horses.  Of  course  there  are 
means  of  knowing,  if  one  has  kept  track  of  arrivals  of 
steamers  at  Skagway,  but  no  one  I  know  has  bothered. 
A  steamer  arrives  and  empties  several  hundred  people 
and  tons  of  goods  into  the  mouth  of  the  trail,  and  the 
trail  absorbs  them  as  a  sponge  drinks  up  water.  They 
are  lost  amid  the  gulches  and  trees. 

Every  one  is  discouraged.  Dirty  and  muddy  from  head 
to  foot,  wet  and  tired,  it  is  no  wonder.  Men  who  have 
been  on  the  trail  two  weeks  are  no  farther  than  this. 
They  tell  of  parties  who  have  reached  even  the  sum- 
mit, and  there,  disheartened,  have  sold  out  and  come 
back.  Some  say  boats  have  been  carried  as  far  as  the 
summit  and  there  deserted.  Others  say  boats  cannot  be 
taken  over  at  all.  The  trail  is  lined  from  Skagway  to  the 
**Foot  of  the  Hill"  with  bt^at  lumber  enough,  as  one  per- 
son said,  to  make  a  corduroy  road  the  length  of  the  trail. 

74 


>5 


J  *■■ 


[ 


}.*^»#>c-  .-'9t 


ON  THE  '•dead  horse      TRAIL 


A    XIGHT    OX    SKAGWAY    TRAIL 

Darkness  comes  on,  and  I  slop  for  the  niijht  with  two 
old  prosj)ectors,  alongside  a  jjranite  l)o\vldcr  as  bi^  as  a 
house.  Aj;rainst  its  flat  side,  and  partially  protected  by 
it»  they  have  piled  their  stuff,  in  the  very  s|>ut  I  should 
have  chosen  for  my  l)eil.  They  have  a  small  fire  goin^, 
and  their  three  horses  are  tied  to  bushes  near  by,  munch- 
ing their  <»ats.  The  men  are  well  provided  with  blankets, 
which,  when  supper  ist>ver,are  spread  out  i»n  the  j^round 
beside  the  pile  t>f  gotxls,  while  a  ro|)e  is  stretched  to  keep 
the  horses  from  tramping  on  the  bed.  They  are  b<»ih  old 
miners.  One,  a  man  of  fifty -four,  had  been  in  former 
mining  excitements,  and  he  had  seen  bad  trails.  Now 
every  sort  of  opinion  has  been  expressed  of  thLs  trail ; 
and  when  a  man  tells  me  a  trail  is  bad,  that  counts  for 
nothing  until  I  know  what  his  idea  of  t>ad  is.  I  asked 
this  man  what  he  thought  of  this  trail.     Said  he  : 

**  I  have  seen  worse  trails  for  a  short  distance — five  or 
six  miles  or  so — but  this  is  the  worst  I  have  ever  seen  for 
the  distance.  I  went  in  over  the  trail  when  it  was  first 
cut  through,  and  I  called  it  then  a  x^Hhi  trail,  but  I  pre- 
dict that  if  the  rains  keep  up  it  will  be  impossible  to  get 
a  horse  over." 

It  has  stopped  raining.  We  lay  our  coats  under  our 
heads  for  pillows,  and  our  guns  under  the  coat<.  and 
turn  in.  Of  course  we  cannot  take  otf  anything  but  our 
coats  and  lKK>ts.  We  wake  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
with  the  rain  in  our  faces.  I  put  my  broad  hat  over  my 
face,  turn  over,  and  go  to  sleep  again. 

We  arc  up  at  five  o'clock.  Half  an  hour  later  I  am  on 
the  traiL  There  are  several  others  on  the  trail  with  their 
packs.  Everj'body,  no  matter  how  dirty  or  tired,  would 
give  any  price  for  a  photograph  of  himself,  **  just  to  send 
back  home  to  show  what  I  am  like."     The  men  imagine 

77 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

their  friends  would  be  surprised  to  see  them  begrimed 
and  unshaven  and  muddy  under  their  packs. 

We  cross  the  Skagway  on  another  corduroy  bridge, 
where  a  fine  view  up  and  down  the  valley  is  to  be  had. 
Near  here  a  stream  of  water  comes  down  the  mountain- 
side out  of  the  clouds,  and  before  it  is  half-way  down  it 
divides  into  several  more  streams,  which  find  their  way 
into  the  Skagway  in  a  dozen  places.  The  dullest  or  least 
sentimental  man  on  the  trail  cannot  but  stop  to  admire 


rrtKDi'Ruv  briim;e  acr«>ss  the  sk.vgway 


this  beautiful  sight.     From  this  bridge  the  trail  follows 
the  valley  of  the  Skagway,  the  ground   being  flat  and 

boggy. 

The  main  summit  is  still  six  or  seven  (estimated) 
miles  distant,  and,  as  it  is  raining,  I  put  in  at  the  tent  of 
^ree  hardy  fellows  whom  1  saw  the  first  day  at  Skag- 
way,  after  feed  for  their  two  horses.  They  have  been 
two  weeks  on  the  trail.  They  tell  me  one  of  their  horses 
is  played  out  this  side  of  Porcupine, 


A    HORSE    OF    LITTLE    WORTH 

"He  fell  over  a  bank  forty  or  fifty  feet,  and  was  on 
the  trail  next  day  all  right,  but  he  must  have  been  hurt 
inside.     He's  all  shot  to  heil  now." 

Two  of  them  go  back  to  where  they  left  the  horse, 
and  return  before  night.  They  have  a  little  fun  at  first 
by  saying  they  sold  the  horse  for  $125  to  a  man  that 
came  along  and  wanted  to  buy. 

**Of  course  we  told  him  we  couldn't  recommend  the 
horse,  but  it  was  a  /toru  !" 

This  does  not  seem  unreasonable  to  us,  as  any  kind 
of  a  horse  brings  whatever  one  asks  for  it.  At  length 
one  of  them  says :  **  No ;  but  we  did  otfer  it  to  a  man 
for  §10.  He  said  he  didn't  want  it.  Then  we  offered 
to  give  it  to  him.  He  said  he  didn't  want  it  even  at  that 
price  Then  we  asked  him  for  a  gun  to  shoot  it  with, 
and  he  lent  us  a  revolver  and  we  shot  it." 

I  saw  one  of  these  men  afterwards.  He  told  me  they 
had  sold  their  other  horse,  as  they  found  it  was  cheaper 
to  pack  their  goixls  on  their  own  backs  than  to  carry 
horse -feed  eight  or  nine  miles  from  Skagway.  A  few 
horses  are  passing  along  in  the  rain.  One  or  two  large 
oxen  go  by  loaded  with  three  hundred  and  more  pounds. 
It  is  astonishing  what  they  will  .carry.  And  then,  when 
they  are  there,  they  can  be  killed  and  eaten.  Doubtless 
a  horse  can  be  eaten  also,  but  most  people  have  prefer- 
ences. 

Everyone  is  downhearted.  So  near  the  summit,  yet  so 
great  has  been  their  struggle  that  hardly  one  e.xpects  to 
g^t  over  at  all,  but  is  seriously  discussing  the  best  place 
to  winter.  Said  one :  **  I  mean  to  go  in  if  it  takes  all 
winter.  If  a  man  can  hunt  and  get  a  caribou,  he  need 
not  mind  it," 

None  of  them  fee!  like  going  back,  but  most  of  them 
regret  having  started.     All  of  them  blame  the  misrepre- 

79 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

sentation  about  the  trail,  and  there  are  many  anxious 
inquiries  about  how  it  is  at  Dyea. 

The  trail  alon^  the  bed  of  the  river  is  a  continuous 
mire,  knee-ileep  to  men  and  horses.  Here  arid  there  is  a 
spot  where  a  spring  branch  crosses  the  trail,  and  in  such 
spots,  which  are  twenty  to  thirty  feet  across,  there  is 
simply  no  bottom.  One  such  hole  is  beside  our  camp. 
Of  the  first  train  of  five  horses  and  three  men  that  I  saw- 
go  by,  three  horses  and  two  men  got  in,  and  with  dith- 
culty  got  out.  After  that  every  horse  went  in  to  his  tail 
in  the  mud,  but,  after  desperate  struggles,  got  upon  solid 
ground.  There  are  worse  holes  than  this.  The  trail 
crosses  the  river  by  two  more  bridges,  and  then  con- 
tinues on  to  the  summit  by  a  road  equally  bad  but  no 
worse  than  what  we  have  come  over  Past  the  summit 
no  one  at  present  knows  anything  of  the  trail,  only  that 
a  few  persons  have  got  through  to  the  Lakes,  including 
two  or  three  women.  The  trail  is  all  but  impassable, 
yet  some  are  plugging  along.  These  men,  it  is  pre- 
dicted, will  lose  their  horses  in  three  or  four  days.  Some 
say  that  something  must  be  done;  they  are  willing  to 
put  in  work,  but  are  not  willing  unless  others  help. 

There  is  no  common  interest.  The  selfish  are  crowd- 
ing on,  every  man  for  himself  Unless  something  is  done 
soon  the  trail  will  be  blocked,  and  then  no  one  will  get 
through.  • 

"  It's  no  use  going  around  these  mud-holes,"  says  one 
of  my  fellows.  **  The  swamp  is  all  alike.  The  only  thing 
to  do  is  to  make  corduroy  bridges  every  foot  of  the  way 
before  there  will  be  a  trail.  I  am  willing  to  start  to-mor- 
row and  bridge  the  holes  above  here." 

No  wonder  they  are  discouraged.     Rain,  rain,  all  the 
time — no  sunshine  up  in  these  mountains;  tent  pitched 
in  a  mud-hole,  bed  made  on  the  stumps  of  bushes,  blank- 
So 


> 


HORSES    LOST    ON    THE    TRAIL 

ets  and  everythinjj  else  wet  and  muddy.  They  are  try- 
ing  to  dry  out  a  hair-seal  cap  and  some  socks  before  a 
miserable  fire.  Even  the  wood  is  wet,  and  will  only 
smoke  and  smoulder. 

Ati^i:Hst  as. 

I  remain  all  night  in  their  tent,  and  early  this  morn- 
ing set  out  to  come  back,  having  seen  enough  of  the 
trail  to  know  what  the  rest  is  like.  I  should  like  to  go 
on  past  the  summit;  but  my  gmnls  are  at  Dyea— indeed, 
a.s  things  go  in  this  country,  I  cannot  be  sure  that  I 
have  any  gixxls  left  at  all. 

I  have  made  careful  inquiry  about  the  loss  of  horses 
on  the  trail.  The  number  at  the  present  time  is  prob- 
ably about  twenty  actually  killed,  with  considerably  more 
badly  hurt  or  temporarily  laid  up.  Each  day  now  al)out 
four  horses  are  killed.  The  number  is  bound  to  increase 
as  the  trail  grows  worse  (which  is  nearly  impossible) 
and  the  horses  grow  weak  under  the  strain  and  from  lack 
of  care.  When  the  sun  and  rains  of  summer  shall  have 
melted  the  snow  of  the  ChilkiH)ts,  the  White  Pass  trail 
will  be  paved  with  the  bones  of  horses,  and  the  ravens 
and  foxes  will  have  feasted  as  never  until  the  white  man 
sought  a  new  way  across  the  great  mountain.  As  many 
horses  as  have  come  in  alive,  just  so  many  will  bleach 
their  bones  by  the  pine-trees  and  in  the  gulches — for 
none  will  go  out. 

A  little  while  ago  contracts  were  taken  by  the  packers 
at  20  cents,  then  25  cents,  a  pound.  Just  now  S650  was 
paid  for  a  thousand  pounds,  while  $1000  for  a  thousand 
pounds  was  offered  and  refused. 

Yesterday  a  horse  deliberately  walked  over  the  face  of 
Porcupine  Hill.     Said  one  of  the  men  who  saw  it: 

**It  looked  to  me,  sir,  like  suicide.  I  believe  a  horse 
will  commit  suicide,  and  this  is  enough  to  make  them ; 

83 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

they  don't  mind  the  hills  like  they  do  these  mud-holes." 
He  added,"  I  dont  know  but  that  I'd  rather  commif  sui- 
cide, ttK),  than  be  driven  by  some  of  the  men  on  this 
trail.*  '  ' 

This  is  what  one  hears  all  alonjj  the  trail  :  *'  We 
brought  a  boat  with  us,  but  we  shed  it  at  Skagway.  It 
cost  us  $27  in  Seattle,  and  we  sold  it  for  $3. 50,  and  were 
glad  to  get  rid  of  it." 

Yet  two  Peterl>oro  canoes  are  on  their  way  to  the  sum- 
mit.    I  saw  them  myself,  as  well  as  a  man  poking  along 


HOW  ONK  €»eTrTT  ATTtvrrrn  to  pack  timrfr  for  a  poat  over 

THK    TtLKlL 


in  the  rain  with  a  load  of  boat  lumber  on  his  shoulder  so 
long  that  the  wonder  is  how  it  ever  gi>t  around  the  turns 
on  Porcupine  Ridge. 

Word  is  brt»ught  down  the  trail  that  one  man,  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  get  over  and  have  his  bt»at  built  and  ready 
loaded,  went  to  sleep,  and  in  the  morning  awoke  to  find 
the  boat  stolen  and  on  its  wav  down  the  Yukon.  Surelv 
that  is  hardship,  yet  only  one  out  of  many.  The  history 
of  this  trail  is  yet  to  be  written,  and  will  only  be  heard 
by  the  firesides  of  old  men. 

On  the  way  baek,  squads  of  men  have  ceased  packing 
and  are  mending  the  road.    There  is  some  talk  of  closing 

M 


PUTTING    TRAIL    IN    ORDER 

the  trail.  Farther  on  the  rumor  is  verified.  Groups  of 
men  in  charge  of  foremen  are  chqpping  clown  trees  and 
building  corduroy  roatls  over  the  worst  mud -holes  and 
over  the  most  dangerous  portions  of  the  rocks.  The 
manner  of  building  is  to  take  two  string-pieces,  lay  them 
side  by  side  four  feet  apart,  then  lay  half-round  logs 
across,  and  hold  these  down  by  two  more  string -pieces 
pegged  down  solidly.  They  have  piled  wood  over  the 
bodies  of  dead  horses  that  have  become  offensive,  and 
these  are  being  consumed  by  fire. 

Between  Porcupine  and  the  "Foot  of  the  HilP' the 
whole  road  is  being  systematically  and  substantially  put 
in  order.  Not  a  horse  nor  a  man  with  a  pack  is  allowed  to 
pass  in  from  the  "FiK>t  of  the  Hill."  A  rope  is  stretcheii 
across  the  trail,  and  several  committeemen  of  the  miners 
stand  guard  and  rigidly  enforce  the  rule  that  no  man 
with  a  pack  must  pass  over  for  the  space  of  three  days ; 
by  that  time,  it  is  believed,  the  trail  will  be  fixed.  One 
man  who  attempted  to  pa.^s  got  roughly  handletL  He 
was  threatened  with  the  black  s|>ot  and  all  the  Irish 
curses  of  the  b<iss  of  the  gang.  His  e.\cuse  was  that  he 
had  a  tent  up  the  road  and  was  merely  getting  back 
home.  There  was  a  miners*  meeting  last  night,  at  which 
the  trail  was  declared  closed.  The  town  at  the  **F<iot  of 
the  Hill"  was  at  the  same  time  officially  named  "Camp 
Edgemont." 

Two  men  came  through  from  Dawson  a  few  days  ago. 
No  one  knew  it  until  after  they  had  left  for  Seattle  ex- 
cept the  doctor  who  keeps  the  little  a{)othecary-shop  at 
Skagway.  He  told  me  about  it  while  measuring  out  some 
quinine  pills  ; 

**I  saw  the  two  boys  come  by,  and  I  recognized  them 
as  from  my  town,  and  called  them  by  name,  and  asked 
them  if  they  had  come  down  the  trail.     They  said  they 

85 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

had,  and  I  asked  them  in.  They  came  in,  and  one  of 
them  helped  the  other  off  with  his  pack.  I  noticed  it 
seemed  vcr>-  heavy,  so  I  came  rij^ht  out  phunp  :  '  How 
much  dust  have  you  got?'  *  Dust  ?'  they  said;  *  that's 
our  grub.'  *Oh,  now/  said  I»  *you  miijht  as  well  tell  me 
how  much  you've  got  I*  Well,  they  made  me  promise 
not  to  tell  they  were  there  until  after  they  had  got  away. 
They  opened  up,  and  showed  me  eighty-five  |x»unds  of 
dust ;  the  biggest  lump  was  as  big  as  my  thumb.  They 
came  up  by  pi>ling-boat  to  the  While  Horse  Rapids,  and 
SL(oot  the  rest  of  the  way.  They  told  me  that  they  threw 
the  sack  of  dust  down  fifty  times,  not  caring  if  they 
ever  picked  it  up  again." 

Fifty  men  might  come  through  and  no  one  would  know 
it.  No  one  knows  his  neighl)or,  nor  seems  to  care. 
Speak  to  a  man  once  or  twice,  and  every  one  calls  him 
your  **  pardner/'  The  better  class  of  men  resent  this  ex- 
pression ;  it  is  decidedly  too  familiar  and  vulgar — alx>ut 
as  if  a  stranger  should  address  you  as  "  Shorty.**  It  is 
the  regular  thing  here,  however,  and  is  no  oftener  a  lie 
than  the  expression  **  my  friend." 


CHAPTER  V 


Depairture  for  D>ca— Outfit  DoJrrveJ  bjr  Tide— The  Chllko.>i.  or  Dyca, 
Trail — I"hea  River  —  ChilLooC  Indian;*  —  Trail  Open,  hul  Quthts 
Scran«le*l  for  Lack  of  Moocj — The  Leadbclter  Outfit— raclers  Sci/e 
Hones 

On^jj-'-^HE  storm  had  abated,  the  tent 

\^  /     was  {jone,  and  there  was  noth- 

1^  ClX       '"JJ   ^^  *^^  ^"^   fi>lIow   Jim    to 

Dyea,  so   I    bargained   with   a 

Siwash  from  Wrangel,  with  a  thirty- 

fivc-foot  single-stick  dugout  canoe, 

to  be  taken  over. 

At  Dyea  the  tents  and  g«Hxls  were 
gone.  Icouldseenothingof  my  own. 
I  supposed  they  had  been  carried  off  by  the  contractor. 
Among  the  first  I  stumbled  across  was  Jim.  who.  to  my 
astonishment,  had  just  arrived  from  Skagway,  the  sea 
having  continued  so  rough  that  no  one  would  venture 
to  bring  him  over.  The  tents  were  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
farther  on.  When  I  got  there  I  found  friends,  and  to 
m%*  horror  learned  that  the  storm  had  driven  an  unusu-' 
ally  high  tide  in  upon  the  beach,  flooding  all  the  go<Kls 
and  tents.  Wagons  had  gone  to  the  rescue  and  saved 
the  most,  but  some  had  fl<»ated  off  and  had  not  yet  been 
recovered,  A  stranger,  with  a  wagon,  had  rescued  my 
oatfit.  Looking  about,  I  sot^n  recognized  my  black  wa- 
ter-proof sacks.  The  stranger  proved  to  be  Monsieur 
TAbbe ;  he  had  found  the  goods  under  a  foot  of  water, 

«7 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMPEDE 

and  paid  a  teamster  $12  to  land  them  in  a  place  of  safety. 
I  did  not  dare  to  think  of  the  condition  they  were  in. 

Where  was  Leadbetter?  Xo  one  knew.  His  wavi<»ner 
was  there.  Would  he  take  my  ^ooils  irow  ?  He  had  no 
time  to-day.  There  was  no  time  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  the  unwilling  teamster.  Jim,  Burghartlt,  and  the 
one-eyed  Dutchman,  who  had  stuck  to  the  party,  and 
myself  hired  two  Indians  with  a  cantH',  and,  putting  part 
of  our  outfit  in,  and  with  two  more  Indians  to  help,  we 
towed  the  canoe  up  the  Dyea  River  for  two  miles,  until 
we  reached  the  ferry,  where  the  trail  crosses  the  river, 
and  there  we  found  Leadbetter's  tent  and  the  tents  and 
goo<ls  of  a  number  of  parties  whom  he  had  contracted 
to  take  over. 

We  pitched  our  tent  among  the  others  in  a  grove  of 
cotton woods»  and  in  the  morning  we  brought  up  the  Test 
of  the  g(x>ds,  weighing  forty-five  hundred  pounds.  The 
cost  for  my  share  alone  was  $16.  Jim  got  the  stove  up 
inside  the  tent.  Upon  opening  the  clothing- bags,  the 
salt-water  had  soaked  through  the  carelessly  tied  ends, 
as  they  lay  submerged,  and  every  article  in  three  sacks 
— leather  mittens,  moccasins,  blankets,  and  furs  —  were 
wringing  wet ;  bo.xes  had  come  apart,  labels  off  b<it ties. 
I  was  still  sure  of  the  photographic  outfit,  which  had 
been  ordered  from  the  Eastman  Company's  factory  in 
**  hermetically  "  sealed  tins.  Imagine,  then,  my  feelings 
as  I  unwrapped  one  after  another  of  the  dripping  tins, 
and  found  not  one  hermetically  sealed,  but  with  a  com- 
mon India-rubber  band  loosely  placed  around  the  joint. 
WTien  opened,  water  poured  out.  The  cut  films,  Inring 
in  pasteboard  lx).\es,  were,  of  course,  also  destroyed — in 
all,  two  hundred  and  fifty  plates — my  entire  stock,  which 
could  not  be  replaced  nearer  than  Seattle,  if  there;  and 
before  they  could  arrive  it  would  be  too  late  to  reach 

88 


LOSS    OF    OUTFIT 

Dawson,  and  1  coiiU!  not  jj^o  without  them.  We  closed 
the  tent  tight,  rigget!  up  lines,  wrung  the  water  out  of 
the  fabrics,  and  at  the  end  of  two  days,  during  part  of 
which  time  the  sun  helped  us,  we  got  everything  dry. 
Only  a  sack  or  two  of  llour  was  damaged — as  tlour,  unless 
it  lies  a  great  while  in  water,  is  not  saturated  more  than 
a  quarter  to  half  an  inch — and  some  dried  fruit. 

The  utter  hoiK-lessness  of  that  night  will  never  be  for- 
gotten.   The  blame  was  first  my  own  in  not  having  seen 


ip" 


■J-r,-  A^?**.  -^ 


toli 


'H»  :--■ 


!*,««•• 


*-  Z^      * 


r^^- 


-r 


'f^St^^i^ 


THE    SCTTLEMKNT    AT    DVE.% 


that  all  my  sacks  were  wrap|>ed  and  rewrapi>ed  at  the 
ends.  But  that  did  not  relieve  the  contractor  of  re-' 
sponsibility,  for  if  he  had  moved  the  goo<ls  when  told 
the  accident  never  would  have  happened.  The  teamster, 
being  in  arrears  for  his  pay,  was  on  the  verge  of  mutiny, 
and  consequently  in  no  hurry  to  remove  them. 

Leadbctter  was  up  the  trail,  with  a  large  outfit  of 
horses  and  burros.  He  had  made  various  contracts  with 
parties. from  San  Francisco  to  put  them  over  at  a  lower 

«9 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

rate  than  that  which  the  Indians  had  hitherto  charged, 
a  quite  reasonable  undertaking.  From  some  he  had 
taken  cash ;  from  others,  like  myself,  horses,  and  he  had 
agreed  to  pay  the  wages  of  his  packmen  by  transporting 
a  certain  quantity  of  supplies  for  them.  The  outfits 
are  moving  along  slowly,  but  contracts  have  run  over 
the  time,  and  there  are  murmurs  of  discontent. 

I  went  at  once  to  Skagway.  Learning  that  Wells, 
Fargo  &  Company  might  establish  a  parcel  express  ser- 
vice to  Dawson  during  the  winter,  by  arrangement  with 
the  carriers  of  the  L'^nited  States  mails,  I  wrote  a  tele- 
gram to  be  forwarded  from  Seattle  for  live  rolls  o(  tilm, 
in  soldered  tins,  and  to  other  parties  for  films  for  the 
plate-holders,  the  agent  about-to-be,  Mr.  Batten,  prom- 
ising to  do  all  that  was  possible  to  get  the  stutf  through 
to  Dawson. 

The  steamer  Danubi\  from  Victoria,  was  unloading, 
and  I  went  aboard  to*  post  letters.  Mr.  Jones,  deputy 
United  States  customs  officer,  was  in  the  captain's  cabin 
collecting  duty  on  the  horses  that  were  aboard,  an  inter- 
esting development,  considering  that  the  duty  was  not 
payable  untd  they  were  landed  on  American  soli. 

In  a  depressed  state  of  mind,  I  returned  to  Dyea,  al- 
though having  still  the  1}  x  2-inch  Kodak  and  some  rolls 
for  the  same. 

Two  months  ago  there  was  but  one  trail  commonly 
known  across  theChilkoot  Mountains  to  the  head-waters 
of  the  Yukon.  That  trail  was  known  as  the  Chilkoot 
Pass  route.  The  new  trail,  first  called  the  White  Pass 
trail,  is  now  spoken  of  as  the  Skagway  trail,  while  the 
old  Chilkoot  trail  is  called  the  Dyea  trail.  That  the 
advertising  of  the  Skagway  trail  as  the  better  route  was 
premature  no  one  pretends  to  dispute — nay,  it  is  only  in 
terms  of  unqualified  condemnation  that  it  may  be  men- 

90 


THE    DYEA    RIVER 

tinned.  Those  who  cut  that  trail  mav  have  honestly  be- 
lieved  it  to  be  better,  but  the  effect  of  rains  and  of  thou- 
sands of  men  and  horses  trampinjj  to  and  fro  was  not 
foreseen.  S<mie  saw  the  trap  in  time  and  pulled  out, 
and  are  now  well  over  the  Dyea  trail.  In  winter  there 
has  been  but  one  plan  of  work  heretofore  followed  : 
Landing  at  Dyea  by  small  steamer  from  Juneau,  goods 
to  the  extent  of  from  four  hundred  to  five  hundred 
pounds  are  placed  upon  the  seven-foot  sled  previously 
described  and  hauled  up  the  Dyea  River  a  distance  of 
about  nineteen  miles  to  the  f<K)t  of  the  summit ;  thence 
it  is  packed,  or  else  hoisted  by  a  long  cable,  over  the 
forty-degree  incline  to  the  summit;  thence  on  sleds 
again  to  Lake  Lindeman,  a  distance  in  all  of  twenty- 
seven  miles,  where  the  miners  wait  for  the  opening  of 
the  river,  or  else  sled  down  the  Lakes  as  far  as  they 
choose. 

At  this  time  of  year  it  is,  of  course,  wholly  different. 
Indians  have  been  taking  packs  of  from  one  hundred  to 
two  hundreii  pounds  on  their  backs,  either  directly  at 
Dyea,  or  in  canoes  to  what  is  termed  the  head  of  canoe 
navigation,  some  six  and  a  half  miles  from  Dyea,  and 
thence  on  their  backs,  making  the  first  stop  at  Sheep 
Camp,  three  or  four  miles  this  side  of  the  summit,  and 
reaching  Lindeman  the  following  day,  at  a  charge  of  14 
cents  per  pound.  This  year,  horses  and  wagons  have  been 
put  on  for  part  of  the  way,  and  white  men  have  come 
in  to  share  the  profitable  rates  of  packing,  which  have 
steadily  gone  up  until  they  are  now  40  cents  per  pound 
to  Lake  Lindeman. 

The  Dyea  River  is,  as  I  have  mentioned  before,  a 
stream  of  nearly  twice  the  volume  of  the  Skagway.  As 
far  as  the  canyon,  eleven  miles  from  the  mouth,  its 
course  is  through  a  level  valley  of  sand,  gravel,  and 

91 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

bowlders,  with  j^roves  and  patches  of  cottonwo<Hls  and 
spruce  and  birch,  while  alonyr  its  banks  are  thickets  t»f 
alder  and  a  species  of  willow  reseniblinjj  the  red  willt)w 
of  the  East.  Its  swift,  milky,  ice-cold  waters  f()|low 
mainly  the  west  side  of  the  valley,  but  at  various  points 
little  branches  roam  away  from  the  main  stream.  The 
river  is  filled  at  this  season  with  salmon,  spawning,  and 
with  lary;e,  fine  trout.  The  woods,  to  the  unobservant, 
seem  devoid  of  life  ;  but  thouj^h  there  is  no  sonjj  of 
bird,  still  if  one  listens  he  will  hear  the  low  chirp  of 
sparrows,  while  the  hoarse  croak  of  the  raven  is  l)orne 
to  the  ear  as  it  flaps  lazily  overhead.  There  are  also  red 
squirrels,  and  if  those  who  have  hunted  in  this  rejjion 
can  be  relied  upon,  the  country  abounds  in  larjje  game 
as  well  as  small — grizzly  bears  on  the  mountain-sides, 
mountain-goats  (miscalled  "sheep"  here)  on  the  sum: 
mits  that  overlook  the  valley,  and  numerous  small  fur- 
bearing  animals. 

Dyea  is  a  comparatively  old  settlement,  its  principal, 
it  may  be  said  only,  house,  the  store,  dwelling,  and  |X)st- 
office  occupied  by  the  firm  of  Messrs.  Healy  &  Wilson, 
having  been  established  as  an  Indian  trading-post  thir- 
teen years  ago.  One  of  the  partners.  Captain  John  J. 
Healy,  six  years  ago  organized  in  Chicago  the  North 
American  Transportation  and  Trading  Company,  and  is 
now  at  Dawson  as  its  general  manager.  Dyea  is  chiefly 
an  Indian  settlement.  To  the  northward  of  the  jx>st- 
office  and  close  by  the  bank  of  the  river  is  the  village, 
composed  of  small,  dirty  tents  and  little  W4HKlen  cab- 
ins crowded  close  together.  There  are  no  totem-j^oles 
nor  the  large  houses  of  more  southern  Alaska.  But  for 
the  few  permanent  cabins,  it  would  seem  to  be  what  it 
Jargely  is,  a  small  settlement  where  Indians  congregate 
from  various  quarters,  the  Chilkats   from  the  westerly 

92 


THE    CHILKOOT    INDIANS 

arm  of  Lynn  Canal,  the  Stikeen  Indians  from  (I<»\vn 
Fort  Wranjjel,  and  the  ChilkcH>ts,  a  braneh  of  the  Chil- 
kats,  who  belonjj  here.  They  are  Tlin^its,  and  the  men 
are  short,  heavy  set,  |M>\verfully  built,  broad  and  thick 
of  chest,  larjje  of  head,  with  ahnost  Moiij^olian  eyes  and 
massive  jaws.  Nearly  all  have  stringy  black  mustaches 
that  droop  at  the   ends,  and   some  have  scant   beards 


CANOE   NAVIGATION 


Their  color  is  a  lij?ht  brown.  The  women  arc  hardly, 
any  of  them  jj(H>d-lookinjj,  and  have  a  habit  of  paintinj^ 
their  faces  a  jet  black  or  chi>colate  brown,  and  I  have 
seen  little  ijirls  who  thus  imitated  their  elder  sisters  and 
mothers.  The  face  is  rubbed  with  balsam,  then  with 
burned  punk,  and  this  is  rubbed  in  with  grease.  They  do 
this,  I  am  told,  for  the  same  reason  that  their  white  sis- 
ters use  paint  and  powder.  They  leave  enough  of  their 
faces  untouched  about  the  chin,  mouth,  and  eyes  to  give 

93 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

them  a  hideous,  repulsive  expression.  In  the  spring  of 
the  year  both  men  and  women  blacken  themselves  thus 
to  protect  their  eyes  from  the  ^lare  of  the  sun  upon  the 
snow.  White  men  used  to  do  the  same  thing  here,  but 
snow-goggles  are  now  used  instead. 

The  Indian  pack-straps  consist  of  two  bands  of  cotton 
cloth  lined  with  blanket,  two  inches  wide  and  twenty 
inches  long,  having  a  loop  at  each  end.  These  Ux^ps  are 
fastened  to  the  top  and  bottom  of  the  load  by  means 
of  a  small  rope,  and  pass  around  the  shoulders  in  front. 
A  third — '* head-strap" — passes  over  the  forehead,  the 
ends  being  fastened  to  the  load  behind.  In  this  way 
an  Indian  walks  off  with  twice  the  load  a  white  man 
will  undertake  to  carry,  and  even  young  boys  and 
women  take  their  seventy-tive  pK:)unds  and  accompany 
the  men. 

Most  arrangements  for  packing  are  made  with  Isaac, 
"Chief  of  the  Chilkoots,"  as  the  sign  reads  al)ove  his 
cabin.  Formerly  the  Chilkoots  monojMjlizcd  the  pack- 
ing, not  allowing  other  Indians  to  enjoy  the  pn>hts,  antl 
seriously  objecting  even  to  white  men  packing  their 
own  outfits  over ;  but  now  this  mono{)oly  is  completely 
broken. 

The  Indian  men's  dress  is  varied  and  pictures<jue.  Some 
wear  the  gayly  colored  Mackinaw  jacket ;  others  a  blue 
denim  garment,  half  shirt,  half  coat ;  still  others  a  loose 
coat  of  blanket,  the  sleeves  or  a  patch  across  the  back 
being  made  of  the  striped  ends;  and, as  the  blankets  used 
by  these  Indians  are  of  the  most  brilliantly  assorted  ct»l- 
ors,  the  color  effects  are  distinctly  striking.  For  head- 
gear they  wear  common  little  felt  hats  or  bright  wool 
toques  or  a  colored  kerchief.  All  possess  rubber  hip- 
boots,  but  when  packing  they  wear  only  moccasins  out- 
side of  "Siwash"  or  blanket  socks,  and   sometimes  an 

94 


CHARACTERISTICS    OF    THE    INDIANS 

oversock  to  the  knee.  Indian  fashion,  dop^s  and  children, 
men  and  women,  crowd  into  their  dirty  abodes,  which 
smell  of  spoiled  fish.  The  dogs  are  not  so  numerous  as 
I  expected,  nor  yet  so  quarrelsome  and  noisy.  The  Ind- 
ians train  them  for  sledge-drawing  in  winter  and  pack- 
ing on  their  backs  in  summer,  and  it  is  not  unusual  to 
see  an  Indian  with  one  or  two  medium-sized  dogs  trot- 
ting beside  him.  with  a  little  pack  on  each  side,  sagging 
nearly  to  the  ground,  containing  his  luncheon. 

When  an  Indian  is  packing  he  carries  his  single  small 
blanket  tied  upon  his  back  under  the  pack,  thereby  making 
a  cushion  for  the  pack.  A  stout  stick  to  balance  with  and 
to  assist  in  climbing  completes  his  outfit.  Twenty  or 
thirty  Indians  will  take  up  packs  and  put  a  whole  outfit 
over  in  two  days.  They  are  not  trustworthy,  and  are 
wholly  unscrupulous.  They  do  nothing  even  for  each 
other  without  a  price,  and  I  have  carefully  noticed  that 
thev  make  no  distinction  between  themselves  and  whites 
even  for  the  same  service.  If  one  engages  them  at  a 
certain  price  and  some  one  offers  them  more,  they  lay 
down  their  packs  and  take  up  the  new  ones;  or  if  on  the 
trail  they  hear  of  a  rise  in  the  scale,  they  stop  and  strike 
for  the  higher  wages.    Some  of  them  speak  good  English. 

Indians  from  Sitka  sav  these  fellows  are  wild  Ind- 
ians,  and  look  upon  their  ignoriance  of  letters  with  some 
contempt ;  but,  if  ignorant  of  letters,  they  are  shrewd, 
hard  traders,  who  are  making  money  fast  and  saving  it. 
They  have  a  strong  predilection  for  gold,  but  at  the  same 
time,  as  our  silver  friends  will  be  pleased  to  know,  silver 
is  in  no  less  favor  with  them.  In  fact,  it  seems  to  be 
hard  money  thev  want.  I  knew  an  Indian  to  declare 
solemnly  he  could  not  change  a  five-dollar  bill,  showing 
the  only  two  silver  dollars  he  had ;  but,  when  a  gold  five 
was  offered  instead,  he  fished  a  whole  handful  of  silver 

95 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


out  of  his  pocket,  which  also  proves  what  barefaced  liars 
they  are.  They  are  lakiiiij  all  the  small  change  out  of 
circulation.  They  come  to  the  traders  several  limes  a 
day,  make  a  trill iiiij  purchase  to  j^et  chanj^e,  and  then 
store  it  away.  The  small -chanije  problem  is  indei^l  a 
serious  one.  There  is  not  enough  small  currency  to  do 
business  with.  The  gamblers  and  the  Indians  are  get- 
ting it  all. 


^'-^   ..^  :^.?a  -i^^'  '^'^•'  -'^'  ui^-'-^ 


ArrmoACHiNG  the  canvos 


From  the  Indian  village  the  road  follows  the  western 
bank  of  the  river  to  the  ferrv»  where  horses  can  ford  in 
the  early  morning.  Thence  the  road  continues,  cn>ssing 
and  recrossing  small  branches  of  the  Dyea  eight  or  nine 
times,  to  Finnegan's  Point  (a  distance  of  ab<»ut  five  miles 
from  Dyea).  The  ftK^t-trail  makes  but  two  fords  in  that 
distance.  From  Finnegan's  Point  is  a  horse-trail  one 
mile  to  the  head  of  cantx;  navigation,  and  thence,  over 


ON  THE  TRAIL  TO  SHEEP  CAMP 

a  level  waste  of  sand  and  loose  bowlders,  to  the  mouth 
of  the  canyon.  From  there  the  winter  route  follows  the. 
bed  of  the  river  for  two  and  a  half  or  three  miles,  be- 
tween steep  forest-clad  banks.  The  summer  trail  makes 
boldly  up  the  steep  sides  of  the  hill,  and,  after  making 
several  very  steep  but  short  ascents  and  descents,  reach- 
ing in  one  place  a  height  of  two  or  three  hundred  feet 
above  the  bed  of  the  river,  it  drops  to  the  level  again 
at  the  head  of  the  canyon,  and  crosses  the  river  on  a 
bridge,  the  work  of  private  parties,  who  charge  a  toll 
of  fifty  cents  on  every  loaded  horse.  The  trail  thence 
follows  the  bed  of  the  stream,  which  is  wide  and  grav- 
elly, fording  again  and  again,  or  crossing  on  logs,  to 
Sheep  Camp,  fourteen  miles  from  Dyea.  The  only  bad 
part  of  the  road  is  in  the  canyon,  but  for  the  most  part 
this  has  been  well  corduroyed,  so  that,  no  matter  how 
much  it  rains,  there  is  solid  footing.  Untrained  horses 
fall  here  too,  but  there  is  a  trail ;  at  Skagway  there  is 
none,  unless  mud  and  rocks  suffice  to  make  a  trail. 
Healy  &  Wilson's  pack-train  of  ten  or  twelve  horses,  in 
charge  of  two  men  on  horseback,  runs  daily  from  Dyea 
to  Sheep  Camp,  carrying  two  hundred  pounds  per  horse, 
returning  the  same  night,  with  hardly  ever  an  accident. 
Both  horses  and  men  know  their  business.  A  go<Hl 
many  of  the  miners  push  their  little  hand-carts  to  the 
end  of  the  wagon-road,  and  then  pack  on  their  backs  or 
by  horse ;  while  others  build  large  flat-bottomed  scows 
or  skiffs,  into  which  they  pile  all  their  goods,  and  tow 
them,  with  much  labor,  to  the  head  of  canoe  navigation. 

At  the  Ferry,  August  29. 

Still  drying  out  clothes  and  blankets.     We  have  found 
one  of  our  horses  here,  sick  from  an  injury  received  on 
the  steamer.     He  falls  down  with  no  load  and  acts  as  if 
G  97 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

famished.  It  is  Jim's  own  horse.  Leadbetter  has  arrived 
.and  promises  to  move  us  at  once  by  wagon  to  Finnegan's 
Point.  Our  horses  are  working  on  the  pack-train  from 
Finnegan's  Point  to  Sheep  Camp. 

Jim  and  Burghardt  are  chafing  at  the  delays.  St) 
they  propose  to  do  their  own  packing,  if  I  replace  the 
old  "skate"  with  a  sound  horse — a  prt)|>osition  to  which 
I  readily  assent  by  giving  him  **  Nelly."  leaving  me  now 
with  five  sound  horses  and  1400  pounds  of  stuff,  not  in- 
cluding the  boat  lumber.  Jim  and  the  boy  go  to  Finne- 
gan's and  pick  out  their  hor^^es  and  start  packing. 

The  Dutchman  is  to  give  his  horse  to  an  Indian,  for 
packing  200  pounds  to  the  summit,  and  he  has  gone 
with  the  Indian,  his  horse,  and  a  pack  on  his  own 
back. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  one  an  idea  of  the  slowness 
with  which  things  are  moving.  It  takes  a  day  to  go  four 
or  five  miles  and  back  ;  it  takes  a  dollar  to  do  what  ten 
cents  would  do  at  home.  The  blacksmith  is  either  at 
Skagway,  or  is  drunk,  or  has  left  his  t<H>ls  behind.  That 
has  been  the  main  trouble  with  Leadbctter — half  his 
horses  are  laid  off  without  shoes.  A  horse  loses  one  or 
more  shoes  about  every  trip.  The  same  story  is  told  by 
all.  They  have  arrived  here  with  outfits  and  means  of 
transportation;  they  have  thought  thtrir  expenses  ended, 
but  they  have  only  just  begun.  Where  a  party  has  cal- 
culated on  getting  over  in  days,  it  is  taking  weeks.  Yet 
how  much  better  than  at  Skagway  !  Here  people  an- 
moving  ;  there  the  trail  is  choked,  and  no  one  is  getting 
through. 

Aui^ust  JO. 

Six  burros  belonging  to  the  outfit  take  800  pounds  to 
Finnegan's  Point,  and  I  pay  a  wagoner  to  haul  the  rest 
to  that  point, 

98 


AT    FINNEGAN'S    POINT 

Finnegan's  Poim,  AusMst  3t. 

Twenty  tents,  including  a  blacksmith-shop,  a  saKx>n, 
and  a  restaurant.  A  tent,  a  board  counter  a  foot  wide 
and  six  feet  long,  a  tall  man  in  a  Mackinaw  coat,  and  a 
bottle  of  whiskey  is  called  a  saloon  here.  At  the  hotel 
a  full  meal  of  beans  and  bacon,  bread  and  butter,  dried 
peaches  and  cotfee  is  served  for  6  bits,  or  75  cents.  It  is 
run  by  two  young  women  from  Seattle.  One  of  them  is 
preparing  to  start  for  Sheep  Camp  with  a  two-hundred- 
pound  cTK)king- range.  The  Indians  bring  in  salmon  and 
trout,  and  sell  them  for  2  bits,  or  25  cents,  each.  The 
salmon  weigh  from  ten  to  twelve  pounds;  the  trout,  two 
or  three  pounds. 

The  Indians  fish  in  a  peculiar  manner.  They  g<»  two 
together  in  a  smallish  canoe,  one  with  a  paddle,  while 
the  other  sits  facing  him  in  the  bow,  armed  with  an  iron 
gaff;  and,  as  the  canoe  is  slowly  worked  along  the  p<x>ls, 
the  gaffer  feels  up  and  d<»wn  with  his  gaff  until  he 
strikes  a  fish,  when,  with  a  flop,  it  is  landed  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  canoe.  One  cannot  see  a  foot  in  the  milky, 
glacial  water,  so  that  spearing  is  out  of  the  question. 
Sometimes  they  surprise  the  fish  in  the  shallow  places. 
I  shot  a  two-and-a-half-pounder  at  a  ford,  grazing  and 
stunning  it  with  a  revolver -shot.  The  Indians  do  not 
use  a  hook  and  line.  There  could  be  no  finer  place  to 
fish  for  trout  than  along  this  Dyea  River;  there  are  . 
deep,  narrow  pools  against  the  sides  of  the  steep  moun- 
tains, while  on  the  other  side  it  is  open,  flat,  and  grav- 
elly, free  from  bushes.  None,  however,  have  time  to 
try,  the  ever-present  dread  that  we  may  never  get  over 
weighs  on  our  minds. 

The  slowness  of  the  pack  -  trains  is  disheartening ; 
horses  laid  off  from  loss  of  shoes,  no  shoes,  not  even 
nails  to  put  them  on;  many  are  sore,  and  the  poor  ones 

99 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

are  playing  out.  The  men  do  not  know  how  to  pack. 
A  Montana  man  says:  "Some  of  these  people  think  that 
so  long  as  it  is  a  horse,  anything  is  all  right.  If  it  was 
a  piece  of  machinery  they  would  have  to  take  care  of 
it,  but  they  think  a  horse  can  stand  anything."  The 
packing  rate  to  Sheep  Camp  is  12  cents  per  pound.  I 
start  the  b*)at  lumber  for  Sheep  Camp  by  two  men,  who 
carry  the  boards  each  side  6f  them  in  a  sort  of  rope  har- 
ness. The  lumber  weighs  165  pounds,  and  I  pay  them 
$25.  My  stuff  went  up  to-day  on  the  backs  of  nine 
horses,  five  of  which  are  my  own.  The  packers  on  their 
return  to-night  claim  they  were  threatened  with  revolv- 
ers up  the  line  by  men  the  time  of  whose  contracts  had 
expired ;  that  the  pack-train  could  only  take  up  one  more 
load  before  moving  the  others  on. 

Packers  have  held  what  they  called  a  ** committee** 
meeting,  and  the  "committee"  announce  that  they  are 
working  for  wages,  and  that  their  only  chance  to  get  their 
own  stuff  through  is  to  push  it  through  on  every  avail- 
able horse  to-morrow,  disregarding  all  other  claims  to 
precedence.  Everybody  is  e.xcited,  and  a  panic  has  seized 
those  who  are  being  put  over  by  the  train.  I  try  to 
stand  them  off,  as  far  as  my  horses  go,  but  the  whole 
train  goes  off  for  Sheep  Camp  with  a  ton  of  stuff  belong- 
ing to  the  packers.  Leadbetter  is  up  the  line  with  three 
or  four  horses,  working  goods  from  Sheep  Camp  to  The 
Scales,  gradually  and  very  slowly  carrying  out  the  con- 
tract. But  contracts  are  contracts,  and  angry  men  point 
to  dates  on  pieces  of  paper  to  prove  that  they  are  not  at 
The  Scales  or  at  Lindeman  within  the  time  specified,  and 
they  are  demanding  the  return  of  their  horses.  Every 
man  is  for  himself  and  fears  to  be  left. 

100 


RETURN  TO  SKAGWAY  FOR  ADVICE 

Septemhar  3. 

I  take  passage  with  a  party  of  Indians  for  Skagway, 
to  consult  the  United  States  Commissioner  and  obtain 
papers  to  be  served  in  case  parties  continue  to  hold  and 
use  the  train.  To-night  the  packers  hold  conclave  before 
a  big  log-fire.  They  are  sobered  a  little  by  this  time,  and 
ask  me  to  take  charge  of  the  whole  train  and  to  run  it  in 
the  interest  of  the  others,  looking  after  the  financial  end. 
There  is  Glass,  a  civil  engineer  of  San  Francisco;  and 
Simpson,  tall,  thin,  with  a  scraggy  black  beard  and  most 
disreputable  arctic  overshoes.  He  is  a  butcher  from 
Oakland,  and  has  made  a  wager  to  go  in  and  come  out 
on  so  much  money,  and  has  600  newspapers  to  sell  there. 
He  is  a  picture  of  mi^ry.  He  comes  in  from  the  trail 
soaking  wet  from  rain  and  mud,  but  he  is  the  most 
cheerful  man  of  the  lot,  and  one  of  the  hardest  work- 
ers. (Simpson  privately  proposed  that  I  leave  my  lumber 
and  take  his  canvas  canoe  and  himself  on  with  his  pa- 
pers. Impossible.)  There  is  Fitzpatrick,  jovial  and  care- 
less, the  stowaway  who  was  captured  aboard  the  Excelsior 
as  she  was  leaving  San  Francisco  for  St.  Michael,  and 
who  to-night,  in  the  ruddy  glare  of  the  fire,  and  amid 
the  steam  of  wet  clothes,  with  his  thumbs  in  the  belt  of 
his  trousers,  tells  over,  with  rich  expletives,  the  story  of 
his  capture,  and  how  he  had  begged  and  pleaded,  even 
offered  money,  for  passage,  but  in  vain.  And  there  are 
half  a  dozen  others  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  of 
different  professions,  but  drawn  together  by  common 
interest,  and  now  trying  to  work  together.  I  make  them 
a  counter-proposition — to  take  my  horses  at  a  low  figure 
and  let  me  do  my  own  packing  on  from  Sheep  Camp. 
The  horses  are  now  conceded  to  be  mine. 

This  morning  the  packers  were  leaving  ray  horses; 

•         loi  • 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

but,  rather  than  keep  them  i(Ue,  I  let  Simpson  take 
them  out,  packings  one -half  for  himself  and  the  other 
half  for  me  at  the  prevailing  rates.  I  load  and  help 
pack  280  pounds  for  King's  party  from  San  Francis- 
co, and  at  the  same  time  accept  an  invitation  to  eat 
Christmas  dinner  with  them  at  Stewart  River.  Turkey, 
cranberry  sauce,  plum  •  pudding,  and  champagne  are 
promised — a  change  from  p<^rk  and  beans.  During  the 
rest  of  this  morning  I  had  to  throw  the  diamond  hitch 
over  the  loads  of  so-called  experienced  packers,  concoct- 
ing a  long  story  about  where  I  had  learned  it. 

Attended  court  in  the  afternoon,  according  to  agree- 
ment, at  Richard's  Landing.  There  were  several  cases 
on — one  a  quarrel  about  some  mules.  The  court-house 
was  a  ten-by-twelve  tent.  The  commissioner  or  judge  sat 
on  a  goods-bo.x  with  a  larger  goods-box  in  front,  and  the 
lawyers  and  defendants  and  plaintiffs,  numbering  about 
a  dozen  persons,  sat  on  other  boxes  and  discussed  the 
situation  informally.  After  talking  awhile  inside,  all 
parties  would  go  outside  to  a  large  flat  rock  in  front  of 
the  tent,  and  there,  with  hands  in  their  pockets,  talk  some 
more.  A  settlement  was  arrived  at  in  each  case.  There 
is  not  much  law.  Common-sense  rules,  or  tries  to;  and, 
if  that  fails  there  is  a  big  United  States  marshal  who 
sets  things  straight  in  about  as  arbitrary  and  effective  a 
way  as  a  New  York  police  justice.  In  my  own  case  there 
was  nothing  to  do  save  pay  a  lawyer  $;o  for  making  out 
the  papers,  which  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  deputy 
marshal,  to  serve  in  event  of  trouble. 

Eight  of  the  packers  buy  three  of  my  horses  at  $50 
each,  the  roan  mare  being  disabled  by  a  cut  on  her  iool, 
and  the  black  somewhere  up  the  trail.    They  now  own  a 

103 


DEATH    OF    NELLY 

train  of  ten  horses,  and  have  ajjreed  to  move  in  the  com- 
mon interest.  With  a  Iij;ht  pack  I  start  for  Sheep  Camp. 
The  first  thing  after  entering  the  canyi>n  trail  is  a  horse 
down  with  his  pack,  and  I  recognize  the  old  "skate,"  and 
Jim  and  the  boy,  with  Nelly  and  the  "buckskin,"  and  the 
Dutchman,  who  is  packing  on  his  own  back.  The  old 
"skate,"  which  we  sup{K>sed  worthless,  has  been  doing 
really  g<X)d  work  on  the  level  ground,  and  is  neither  sore 
nor  cut ;  but  this  is  his  first  try  at  the  hills.  We  get  him 
up,  and  the  pack  on  again.  Nelly's  back  is  very  sore, 
and  she  groans  under  the  pack.  Half  a  mile  farther  on 
the  pack  turns  on  Nelly,  and  her  back  is  gone.  The  pack 
is  taken  off  and  she  is  led  back  to  the  camp,  where  a 
revolver  •  shot  puts  the  poor,  patient  little  beast  out  of 
misery.  I  do  not  forget  the  last  words  of  the  man  who 
rode  her  into  Victoria,  little  expecting  her  to  be  sold 
there  by  her  owner.  "Poor  Nelly  !  I  will  never  see  you 
again!"  Wet  blankets,  saddles  not  cinched  tight,  saddles 
that  do  not  fit,  loads  unequally  balanced,  are  doing  the 
sad  work.  We  cannot  see  until  the  saddles  are  off  what 
hundreds  of  horses  are  suffering. 

Jim  is  moving  along  slowly.  It  is  now  too  late,  but 
if  he  had  waited  with  me  two  days  longer  his  outfit 
would  probably  have  been  all  at  Sheep  Camp.  I  was 
sorry,  for  Jim  was  a  good  man. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Sheep  Camp — U%  Population — >futl  an«l  Kain — Hotel  Paltmr — Slieep 
Camp  to  the  Foot  of  Chilk.>ot—**  Stone  ll<>us<^"— Climbinj^Chilko»>t— 
Over  the  Summit — Delayed  by  Storms — Lake  Linilcnian— P.uat  Hiiilil- 
ing — Excitement  of  I)eparture> — I-akc  Kennett— Shooting;  the  Kapi«U 
—End  of  Skagway  Trail 


HEEP  CAMP  is  thirteen  miles  from 
Dyea.  It  is  a  town  of  tents,  scattered, 
to  the  number  of  several  score,  amon^ 
spruces,  along  the  bowlder-lined  shores 
of  the  Dyea  River,  here  a  stream  a  uh\  or 
two  across,  and  so  swift  as  to  be  scarcelv 
fordable.  It  is  a  convenient  stage  before 
the  climb  over  the  pass,  which  is  four 
miles  distant.  It  is  also  the  last  place 
on  the  Chilkoot  trail  where  wood  can  be  had  for  warmth 
and  cooking.  Two  pack-trains  of  ten  horses  each  run 
the  round  trip  from  Dyea  in  charge  of  two  men  riding 
spare  horses.  There  are  several  hundred  horses  in  all, 
and  a  much  larger  number  of  men.  The  rate  of  pack- 
ing to  this  point  is  14  cents  a  |H>und.  This  rate,  though 
not  large  on  such  merchandise  as  parcels  of  cigars, 
makes  oats  $16  a  sack,  and  hay  not  less  than  $325  a  ton. 
The  population  of  Sheep  Camp  may  be  classified  as 
follows:  those  who  have  packed  their  own  stuff  thus  far 
and  are  wavering, discouraged  by  the  bad  weather;  those 
moving  their  goods  right  through  with  horses  or  on  their 

>o4 


SHEEP    CAMP 

backs;  professional  jjfamblers,  and  a  p^reat  swarm  of  men 
packinji:  over  the  summit.  These  last  are  mostly  hang- 
ers-on from  Juneau,  several  heiny^  deserters  from  the  rev- 
enue-cutters, while  others  are  men  who  were  bound  for 


j*t' 


THE   FORD   AT   SHKF.P  CAMP 


Dawson,  and  who  had  the  wit  or  presence  of  mind,  which 
few  others  seemed  to  show,  to  recoj^nize  a  gold-mine  when 
it  came  before  their  eyes,  even  if  it  was  not  a  Klondike 
one.  They  are  making  great  money.  The  rate  to  Crater 
Lake  is  12  cents  a  |K>und;  to  Lindeman,  30  cents  a  pound. 
Many  of  them  take  one  pack  from  here  over,  and  then 
make  <me  or  more  short  packs  over  the  summit,  in  this 
way  making  as  high  as  §j6  a  day.  It  is  the  hardest 
kind  of  work,  though,  and  after  a  while  the  feet  and 
ankles  get  so  used  up  that  the  men  have  to  give  up 
and  go  home.     It  is  not  always  with  full  pockets  that 

105 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

these  men  are  going  back,  for  the  crap  men  and  the 
faro  men  about  a  mining-camp  seem  special  creations 
for  the  purpose  of  relieving  certain  sorts  of  men  from 
the  temptation  to  spend  their  hard-earned  money  in 
worse  ways. 

It  has  been  a  continual  downpour  for  the  past  week. 
My  goods  are  all  here,  stacked  under  canvas  and  rubber 
covers ;  but  it  seems  a  hopeless  task  to  keep  goods 
dry.  Horses  have  almost  no  value,  just  the  price  of 
packing  for  one  day;  but  it  costs  $io  for  a  set  of  shoes. 
Everything  is  the  color  of  mud  —  men,  horses,  and 
goods. 

Sheep  Camp  has  a  hotel.     If  any  one  is  in  doubt  on 


r  p 


WCIOHINO   PACKS  AT   SHEEH  CAMP 


that  point,  a  huge  cK)th  sign  on  the  front  of  the  building 
announcing  the  fact  in  letters  three  feet  high  is  suffi- 
cient evidence.  That  the  proprietor,  a  Mr.  Palmer,  is  a 
modest  man  is  evident  in  that  he  has  not  placed  his  own 

106 


HOTEL    PALMER 

name  in  letters  equally  large  in  front  of  the  simple  but 
gigantic  word  "  Hotel." 

It  is  one  of  the  two  wooden  buildings  in  town,  built 
of  rough  boards,  and  in  dimensions  about  twenty  by 
forty  feet,  comprising  a  single  room.  A  portion  is  par- 
titioned off  at  the  back  bv  a  calico  curtain,  and  here 
live  the  proprietor,  his  wife,  and  a  large  family  of  small 
children,  and  here  the  meals  are  prepared  for  several 
hundred  hungry  packers  three  times  a  day  as  fast  or 
faster  than  the  pack-train  can  bring  the  grub  from 
Dyea.  At  noon,  but  more  particularly  at  evening,  the 
floor  of  the  hotel  is  crowded  by  a  wild,  dirty,  wet,  un- 
kempt crew  of  men  from  Chilkoot,  who  advance  in  re- 
lays to  a  long  table,  where  the  beans,  tea,  and  bacon  are 
thrown  into  them  at  75  cents  each,  payable  strictly  in 
advance.  The  fare  depends  greatly  on  what  the  pack- 
train  has  been  able  to  pick  up  at  Dyea,  There  is  always 
enough,  although  sugar  or  milk  may  be  a  bit  scarce. 
The  men  eat  like  wolves.  "Still,  there  are  some  who 
kick  at  the  price,"  says  Landlord  Palmer.  **\Vhy,  the 
price  they  pay  hardly  pays  the  packing  on  what  some  of 
them  eat," 

When  supper  is  over,  the  fltK>r  is  thrown  open  f«>r 
guests.  All  who  have  blankets  unroll  them  and  spread 
them  on  the  floor,  take  off  their  socks  and  shoes  and 
hang  them  on  the  rafters,  place  a  coat  under  their  heads, 
and  turn  in.  By  nine  o'clock  it  is  practically  impossi- 
ble to  walk  over  the  floor,  for  the  Ixxlies.  The  first  night 
I  spent  in  Sheep  Camp  I  spread  my  blanket  under  the 
table,  sharing  it  with  a  fellow-traveller  who  was  not  so 
provided.  No  charge  is  made  for  the  sleeping  privileges 
of  this  hotel.  In  the  morning  the  lavatory  arrangements 
are  of  an  equally  simple  sort.  One  simply  walks  outside 
to  a  brook  that  flows  under  one  corner  of  the  building, 

107 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

and,  after  ablution  in  water  from  a  placier  up  the  moun- 
tain-side, lets  the  water  dry  on  his  hands  and  face.  I 
noticed  most  of  the  men  did  not  take  even  this  much 
trouble. 

Observing  that  I  was  a  photographer,  the  proprietor 
mentioned  that  he  had  some  things  belonging  to  a  cam- 
era that  a  photographer  had  left,  and  he  was  at  liberty 
to  sell  me  them  if  I  cared  for  them,  and  he  brought  out 
— of  all  things ! — three  spools  of  4  x  5  daylight  Him  !  I 
took  them  quickly  enough.  That  very  day  I  was  going 
down  the  trail  in  Sheep  Camp,  past  a  large  tent  that  I 
had  noticed  before,  when  a  young  man  hailed  me  with, 
**Say,  do  you  want  to  buy  a  camera?  I  see  you  are  a 
photographer."  A  stroke  of  lightning  could  not  have 
caused  me  more  astonishment.  "  I  have  a  camera  here, 
and  I  guess  I  don't  want  it  any  longer.  It's  too  much 
trouble."  It  proved  to  be  the  very  make  of  camera 
that  my  spools  fitted,  and,  as  fortune  is  said  always  to 
run  in  streaks,  he  had  nine  more  unused  spools,  and  was 
willing  to  part  with  them  for  their  cost  in  San  Francisco  ! 
The  youn^  man,  Charlie  Brannon  by  name,  was  one  of 
the  lucky  men  who  arrived  on  the  Portlami^  and  is  now 
on  his  way  back. 

While  waiting  for  the  rain  to  cease  I  took  my  remain- 
ing black  horse  down  the  trail  to  sell  it.  It  was  perfectly 
sound.  No  one  would  make  me  an  offer.  At  the  Ferry 
an  Indian  offered  $20,  to  include  the  halter  ;  but,  not 
having  the  money,  we  started  together  to  the  village. 
On  the  way  I  met  Leadbetter  and  his  former  teamster. 
Leadbetter  had  just  fini  -hed  saying  to  him  as  I  ap- 
proached that  I  would  probably  sell  for  $50.  The  team- 
ster asked  me  the  price.  I  said  $25,  and  he  jumped  at 
the  offer.  The  horse  paid  for  itself  the  next  day  on  the 
pack-train  to  Sheep  Camp.     I  didn't  need  to  apologize 

mj8 


HOW    THE    HORSES    SUFFER 

to  the  Indian,  who  was  lookinjj  on  at  the  transaction 

rather  crestfallen.     He  understood  that   it  was  simply 

his  own  way  of  doing  business.     The  blue  roan,  which 

only  needed  a  rest,  I  gave  away»  rather  than  sho<Jt  it, 

to  a  packer,  a  careful  man,  who  intended  wintering  his 

train  at  Dyea. 

SffttmhfT  I  a. 

Three  inches  of  snow  reported  on  the  summit,  and  six 
inches  at  Lindeman,  but  the  Indians  say  the  lakes  will 
not  freeze  for  six  weeks.  Donkeys  taken  over  the  pass 
are  starving  to  death,  as  there  is  no  grazing.  The  pack- 
ers, one  by  one,  are  dropping  out  as  the  weather  grows 
worse.  So  the  rates  keep  up.  Discouraged,  many  are 
trying  to  sell  their  outfits,  and  have  set  up  little  stores 
inside  their  tents. 

The  cruelty  to  horses  is  past  belief;  yet  it  is  nothing 
to  the  Skagway  trail,  we  hear.  There  are  three  thou- 
sand horses  on  the  Skagway  trail  —  more  to  kill,  that's 
about  all  the  difference..  Sheep  Camp  is  filling  up  with 
broken-down  brutes.  Their  owners  have  used  them  and 
abused  them  to  this  point,  and  are  too  tender-hearted  (?) 
to  put  them  out  of  their  misery.  Their  backs  are  raw 
from  wet  and  wrinkled  blankets,  their  legs  cut  and 
bruised  on  the  rocks,  and  they  are  as  thin  as  snakes  and 
starving  to  death.  A  Colorado  man  says  to  me,  "Of  all 
the  cruelty  to  horses — and  I've  seen  a  good  deal — the 
worst  is  on  this  trail ;  they  are  killing  them  with  sticks." 
They  are  hobbling  about  among  the  tents,  tumbling 
over  guy -ropes,  breaking  into  caches,  making  great 
nuisances  of  themselves.  No  one  will  take  the  respon- 
sibility of  shootmg  them.  Some  one  may  come  along 
and  demand  $50  for  the  dead  horse  perhaps.  That  set- 
tles it.     So  we  drive  a  batch  of  them  out  of  town,  where 

the  poor  creatures  may  find  a  little  feed. 

109 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

A  wretched,  thin,  white  cayuse  came  to  my  tent.  He 
had  been  driven  from  four  miles  above,  where  his  owner 
deserted  him.  It  was  raining  a  cold  rain.  He  put  his 
head  and  as  much  more  as  he  could  inside  the  tent,  try- 
ing to  get  next  the  stove.  He  stayed  there  all  night  and 
was  around  all  next  day,  and  he  had  n(»thing  to  eat.  I 
am  certain  he  never  felt  the  44-calibcr  bullet  back  of  his 
ear  that  evening.  Thereupon  a  general  killing-off  began, 
until  carcasses  were  lying  on  all  sides. 

A  dozen  packers  take  fny  outfit  across  the  pass  to 
Crater  Lake,  but  will  not  touch  the  boat  lumber.  Flour 
is  a  packer's  first  choice,  lumber  last. 

One  by  one  my  "  partners  "  for  each  few  miles  of  travel 
have  fallen  by  the  way-side.  Several  have  otfered  to  pay 
for  passage  down  the  river,  as  boats  at  Lindeman  are 
bringing  prices  that  are  prohibitive  to  most.  Finally  I 
fall  in  with  a  young  man  from  Stockton,  California, 
named  Al  Brown,  who  started  for  Dawson  with  the 
Leadbetter  outfit,  and  is  dumped  here  by  the  collapse 
of  the  undertaking.  He  has  a  good  outfit  of  clothes, 
no  grub,  and  is  determined  to  reach  Dawson,  though 
I  tell  him  I  should  advise  no  one  to  do  a  thing  I  should 
not  do  myself.  He  agrees  to  help  me  to  Dawson,  and  I 
agree  to  pack  his  goods.  Brown  has  had  no  experience 
whatever  in  the  kind  of  life  he  has  entered  upon,  but 
he  is  an  expert  oarsman,  holding  the  amateur  cham- 
pionship of  the  Pacific  coast.  We  start  for  the  summit 
after  our  outfit,  each  with  packs  of  stuff  that  we  c^>uld 
not  trust  to  packers,  leaving  the  boat  lumber  in  charge 
of  a  trustworthy  man,  who  promises  to  send  it  over 
without  delay  for  $30. 

From  Sheep  Camp  the  valley  is  a  huge   gorge,  the 
mountain-sides  rising  steep,  hard,  and  bold  to  a  prodig- 

110 


AT    IHk,   mor  UK  CIULtVUr   l-Asa 


-> 


APPROACHIXc;    CHILKOOT 

lous  height.  The  valley  hejjins  to  rise  rapidly,  and  the 
trail  is  very  bad.  A  mile  above  Sheep  Camp,  on  the  left 
hand,  a  hujje  jjjlacier  lies  on  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
juttinjj  so  far  over  and  downward  that  every  moment 
one  e.vpects  a  great  chunk  to  drop  off  and  tumble  into 
the  river.  But  it  does  not,  and  only  a  small  stream  of 
water  from  its  melting  forces  its  way  to  the  bottom.  A 
mile  farther  on  is  *'  Stone  House  " — a  large  square  rock, 
crudely  resembling  a  house;  it  stands  on  the  river's 
brink.  At  the  base  of  the  mountain  is  a  great  mass  of 
slide  rock,  some  of  the  bowlders  being  nearly  as  large  as 
the  one  by  the  river.  Some  of  these  rocks  have  piled  on 
top  of  one  another  so  as  to  form  small  caves,  which  the 
Indians  use  for  shelter.  These  also  are  called  "  Stone 
Houses."  The  valley  here  makes  a  sudden  turn  to  the 
right,  and  th«  trail  begins  to  grow  steep.  The  valley  is 
filled  with  great  water-and- ice- worn  bowlders.  The 
trail  climbs  from  one  to  another  of  these.  There  is  no 
vegetation,  save  a  few  alders  here  and  there,  and  these 
cease  just  above  **  Stone  House." 

The  trail  enters  a  <*///-</<•-///<*,  climbing  higher  and 
higher.  The  valley  seems  to  end  ;  a  precipitous  wall  of 
gray  rock,  reaching  into  the  sky,  seems  to  head  off  far- 
ther progress,  seaming  its  jagged  contour  against  the 
sky^a  great  barrier,  uncompromising,  forbidding — the 
Chilkoot  Pass. 

Horses  and  men  with  packs  are  ahead  of  and  behind 
us.  The  sun  has  broken  clear,  and  shines  down  on  a 
strange  scene.  In  a  pocket  under  the  cliff  are  s<.>me  score 
of  tents  and  huge  piles  of  baggage.  The  tents  are  held 
to  the  earth  by  rocks  on  the  guy-ropes.  Men  are  busily 
at  work  making  up  the  goods  into  packs  and  unload- 
ing pack-horses.  Adding  to  the  animation  the  rocks 
are  covered   with  bright   blankets  spread  out  to  dry. 

H  113 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

The  men  take  up  the  packs,  and  this  is  what  happens : 
They  walk  to  the  base  of  the  cliff,  with  a  stout  alpen- 
stock in  hand.  They  start  to  climb  a  narrow  foot-trail 
that  goes  up,  up,  up.  The  rock  and  earth  are  j^ray.  The 
packers  and  packs  have  disappeared.  There  is  nothini; 
but  the  gray  wall  o(  rock  and  earth  But  stop!  Look 
more  closely.  The  eye  catches  movement.  The  moun- 
tain is  alive.  There  is  a  continuous  moving  train  ;  they 
are  perceptible  only  by  their  movement,  just  as  ants 
are.  The  moving  train  is  zigzagging  across  the  tower- 
ing face  of  the  precipice,  up,  up,  into  the  sky,  even  at  the 
very  top.  See  !  they  are  going  against  the  sky  !  They 
are  human  beings,  but  never  did  men  l<H>k  so  small. 

Other  men  are  coming  back  empty,  as  if  dropping  back 
to  earth.  **The  Scales,"  as  the  foot  of  the  precipice  is 
called,  is  one  of  the  most  wretched  spots  on  the  trail; 
there  is  no  wood  nearer  than  four  miles,  and  that  is  |HK)r. 
The  wind  blows  cold,  and  everybody  and  everything  is 
saturated.  **The  Scales**  gets  its  name  from  having 
been  in  former  years  a  weighing-place  for  g(.K>ds  hoisted 
or  packed  over. 

We  start  with  our  packs  up  the  side  of  the  mountain. 
Chilkoot  deceives  one  in  this  :  it  seems  to  tower  directly 
over  one's  head,  whereas  the  actual  average  slope  is  about 
forty-five  degrees,  consisting  of  a  series  of  benches  alter- 
nating with  slide  rock.  The  trail  winds  from  bench  to 
bench,  and  there  are  a  numl)er  of  trails  all  reaching  the 
crest  at  about  the  same  place.  The  general  sIo|h.'  c»f 
the  path  is  not  great,  and  the  labor  of  climbing  so  lit- 
tle that  when  we  pause  to  take  breath  and  look  back  we 
find  we  are  half-way  up.  In  several  places,  however, 
the  trail  is  very  steep ;  one  must  climb  on  hands  and 
knees  from  bowlder  to  bowlder — much.  I  fancy,  as  one 
would  go  up  the  pyramids.     We  overtake  horses  going 

"4 


IN    THE    SUMMIT    OF    CHILKOOT 

up,  and  an  ox.  We  are  astonished  to  see  how  so  appar- 
ently chimsy  a  creature  p:ets  up  the  steep  places.  There 
is  one  very  dangerous  place ;  it  is  necessary  to  attach  a 
rope  to  the  pack-saddle,  two  or  three  men  go  ahead,  and 
when  the  horse  starts  up  they  pull  hard  on  the  rope  ; 
otherwise  he  goes  over  backward,  as  one  or  two  horses 
have  done.  Once  on  top,  the  trail  crosses  a  broken  yet 
comparatively  level  summit,  over  one  or  two  dirty  gla- 
ciers, and  then  downward  three  or  four  hundred  feet  of 
easy  pitch  to  the  head  of  a  steep  glacier,  where  all  at 
once,  if  the  weather  is  clear,  there  breaks  into  full  view 
Crater  Lake,  a  body  of  pure  green  water,  of  irregular 
outline,  a  mile  or  more  in  length,  lying  in  a  great,  rough, 
crater- like  basin  of  rock.  Some  were  sledding  goods 
on  tarpaulins  down  the  glacier,  which  terminates  in  a 
pile  of  bowlders  as  big  as  wash-tubs,  and  these  continue 
on  at  a  steep  angle  to  the  edge  of  the  water.  Piled  on 
the  bowlders  are  caches  of  gcxxls.  Some  persons  have 
tried  to  set  up  tents  in  this  forbidding  place.  I  do  not 
l<X)k  inside  of  any  to  see  how  they  arranged  a  place 
flat  enough  and  smooth  enough  to  sleep  upon,  but  infer 
that  sleep  is  accomplished  even  under  such  adverse  con- 
ditions, as  they  belong  to  the  boatmen,  of  whom  there 
are  three,  ferrying  gcHxls  to  the  foot  of  the  lake  at  i  cent 
a  pound.  Forty  dollars  a  day  was  paid  for  the  use  of  one 
row-boat,  but  the  men  are  making  more  than  that.  They 
earn  their  money  having  to  live  in  such  a  place,  and  no 
wood  within  miles.  One  of  them  tells  me  he  has  been 
there  two  weeks,  and  that  each  morning  he  has  wrung 
the  water  out  of  his  clothes  before  putting  them  on.  We 
are  fortunate  in  getting  our  goods  taken  over  at  once, 
while  we  go  around  by  the  trail  to  the  foot  of  the  lake, 
where  in  a  little  notch  among  the  rugged  rocks  are  tons 
of  freight.    By  the  time  we  unload  and  pile  our  stuff  it  is 

"5 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

dark.  With  tent,  blankets,  and  some  grub,  Brown  and 
I  start  for  **  Happy  Camp,"  where  we  hear  there  is  wood, 
but  have  gone  only  a  few  hundreil  yards  when  we  have 
hopelessly  missed  the  trail.  We  hunt  for  a  level  place, 
and  at  length  find  one  up  the  hill-side,  where  by  pulling 
some  bunches  of  moss  we  make  a  spot  where  wo  can  lie. 
It  is  a  very  wretched  pros|>ect.  Throwing  down  the 
tent,  we  spread  our  blankets,  and  then  fold  the  tent 
over.  From  being  cold,  we  nearly  suffocate.  In  the 
morning,  we  can  tell  something  has  happened.  Peeping 
out,  we  find  that  we  are  covered  with  two  inches  of  snow. 
We  are  only  a  few  feet  from  the  trail,  and  a  man  goes  by 
with  a  pack  ;  but  we  cannot  be  seen,  for  we  are  like  the 
surrounding  rocks— white.  Shaking  off  the  snow,  we  sit 
there,  eating  a  tin  of  meat  and  a  piece  of  hardtack.  It 
is  the  Californian's  first  experience  with  snow,  and  he 
enjoys  if 

Next  rooming  we  follow  the  water  from  Crater  Lake, 
a  stream  of  some  size,  about  four  miles,  past  **  Happy 
Camp"  —  a  misnomer,  if  ever  there  was  one  —  until  we 
reach  the  head  of  a  lake,  where  there  is  wo<h1  and  a 
little  grazing  for  a  few  wretched  horses.  The  wood  is 
spruce,  scrubby  and  sprawling,  some  of  the  trunks  be- 
ing a  foot  thick,  but  the  trees  themselves  not  over 
ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height.  There  were  about  fifty 
tents  at  the  lake,  which  is  known  as  Long  Lake,  and 
is  two  miles  long.  We  set  up  our  tent  on  the  spot 
where  a  party  were  camped  who  were  just  leaving, 
thereby  having  a  few  bare  spruce  boughs  ready  laid  for 
our  own  bed. 

Next  day  it  begins  to  storm  adown  the  valley — such 
a  storm  as  I  never  saw  before.  It  blows  until  it  seems  as 
if  the  tent,  which  is  held  down  by  heavy  rocks  on  the 
g^y-ropes  and  the  edges  of  the  tent,  would  be  taken  bodily 

ii6 


SHEEP    CAMP    WASHED    AWAY 

and  thrown  into  the  lake.  Goods  have  to  be  piled  end- 
ways to  the  wind  or  else  be  blown  over. 

The  storm  continues  for  several  days,  with  wind,  snow, 
and  rain,  the  sun  shininjx  clear  each  morninjj  through 
the  rain.  We  engage  some  men  to  pack  our  stuff  oven 
doing  c<^nsiderable  ourselves.  Now  we  see  the  need  of 
th^  heavy  shoes  ;  anything  less  heavy  would  have  been 
cut  in  pieces  by  the  bare,  hard  rocks. 

Having  waited  several  days  in  vain  for  the  boat  to  come 
over  the  summit,  we  start  back  to  Sheep  Camp,  and  on 
the  way  we  hear  that  Sheep  Camp  has  been  washed  en- 
tirely away,  and  many  persons  lost.  At  "  Stone  House  " 
the  square  stone  is  gone.  Several  parties  camped  there 
tell  us  the  first  they  heard  was  a  roar,  and,  kmking  across 
the  valley,  saw  a  stream  of  water  and  bowlders  coming 
off  the  mountain -top,  the  bowlders  leaping  far  out  in 
air  as  they  tumbled  down,  an  immense  torrent,  and  it 
poured  into  the  Dyea  River,  overwhelming  a  young  man 
who  had  gone  to  the  river  for  water,  undermining  the 
big  rock,  flooding  the  tents,  carrying  away  several  out- 
fits, and  speeding  towards-  Sheep  Camp,  bearing  trees 
and  wood  with  it.  Sheep  Camp,  when  we  reach  there, 
is  a  spectacle.  The  big  saloon  tents  and  many  small 
ones  are  wiped  out,  and  the  main  street,  lately  a  trail  of 
black  mud,  shoe-top  deep,  is  as  clear  and  solid  as  sand 
can  make  it.  The  catastrophe  occurred  on  the  i8th,  at 
seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  before  many  were  up. 
Numerous  outfits  were  either  buried  or  have  been  car- 
ried away  by  the  flood.  People  are  digging  in  the  sand, 
wringing  garments  and  hanging  them  out  on  the  bushes 
to  dr)\     Only  one  life  is  known  to  have  been  lost. 

This  disaster  has  decided  many  who  were  hanging  in 
the  balance.  Whether  they  have  lost  their  outfits  or  not, 
it  has  given  them  a  good  excuse  to  go  back.     From 

"7 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

this  time  on  only  the  stronj^-hcarted  continue  on  their 
way.  Amid  such  jjeneral  destruction  I  hardly  expected  to 
find  my  U>at  lumber,  but  it  had  been  removed  to  a  place 
of  safety  by  the  packer,  whose  feet  had  ^ivei\  out  ;  but 
we  find  two  men  to  take  it  over,  and  it  accompanies  us. 
I  found  among  the  wreckage  a  fine  pair  of  Alaskan  sn(nv- 
shoes,  the  ti>e  of  one  broken  off,  which  the  owner  parted 
with  for  $j.     It  is  snowing  as  we  again  climb  the  sura- 


.VI^V.- 


^■^wK 


//' 


LAKE    LINDEMAM 


mit,  making  the  ascent  bt)th  difficult  and  dangerous.  The 
storm  still  rages  at  Long  Lake.  Tents  are  l>eing  blown 
down  or  arc  banging  like  the  jib  of  a  schin^ner  going 
about  in  a  three-reef  breeze.  Wondering  if  this  is  a  per- 
manent condition  of  the  weather  here,  we  start  for  Linde- 
ns 


LAKE    L  IX DEM AN 

man.  The  drop  <»f  ei^ht  hundred  feet  in  elevation  from 
Lcmg  Lake  to  Lindeman  puts  one  into  a  new  and  smil- 
ing country.  There  are  a  hundred  and  twenty  tents  at 
the  lake,  half  that  numlx?r  of  l)oats  in  process  of  build- 
ing, half  a  dozen  saw-pits  at  work,  and  a  general  air  of 
hustle-bustle.  In  the  words  of  the  geography,  "  Ship- 
buihling  is  the  principal  industry"  of  Lindeman. 

The  ferryman  at  Long  Lake  refuses  to  go  out  in  the 
storm,  so  we  pay  him  full  price,  i  cent  a  pound,  for  his 
IxKit,  a  large  double-ender,  U»ad  our  g<M)ds  in  it,  rig  a  small 
square-sail  in  the  bow,  antl  scud  to  the  other  end,  leav- 
iryj  the  owner  to  get  his  boat  when  the  storm  eases  up. 
A  portage  of  a  few  hundred  yards  to  Deep  Lake,  and 
another  ferryman  takes  us  to  the  foot,  a  mile  distant, 
where  we  set  up  tent. 

The  river  here  drops  int  a  narrow  canyon  at  tremen- 
dous speed,  falling  eight  hundred  feet  in  two  or  three 
miles.  The  trail  strikes  across  a  spur  of  the  hill,  strik- 
ing the  lake  near  its  head.  Lindeman  is  a  beautiful 
lake,  four  and  a  half  miles  long,  and  narrow  with  a  tow- 
ering mountain  on  the  opjx>site  side.  At  its  heatl,  on 
the  left  hand,  a  river  enters,  and  there  is  timl)er  for  boats 
up  this  river.  Vegetation  is  now  plentiful,  but  it  con- 
sists mainly  of  willows  and  a  dwarf  conitts,  or  "bunch- 
berry,"  which  at  this  season,  with  its  purple-red  leaves 
ciu'ering  the  whole  ground,  gives  a  rich  look  to  the  land- 
sca|>e.  We  pitch  tent  in  a  lovely  spot,  on  which  we  de- 
cide to  build  «>ur  boat.  We  pack  our  giKxls  over  from 
Deep  Lake,  and  when  the  luml>er  arrives  we  build 
•*  horses"  and  set  to  work  constructing  the  bateau.  We 
find  some  burros  here  of  the  Leadl)etter  outfit.  Only 
three,  hardly  bigger  than  sheep  —  and  how  slow!  Dr. 
Sugden  is  driving  them  when  we  first  see  them.  The 
little  beasts,  trained  at  packing  ore  in  the  mountains  of 

119 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

California,  know  how  to  g^o  around  the  trees  with  their 
packs,  but  they  are  helpless  in  the  mutldy  places,  which 
alternate  with  the  rocks.  We  take  them  for  <»ne  day; 
but  Brown  says  he  can  pack  faster  on  his  own  back,  so 
we  let  the  next  man  have  them. 

Every  one  is  in  a  rush  to  jjet  away.  Six  to  ten  boats 
arc  leaving  daily.  They  are  lar^jc  boats,  with  a  load  of 
five  to  ten  men  each.  The  boats  are  t»f  several  kinds. 
A  fleet  of  seven  large  bateaux  got  otf  as  we  arrived,  but 
the  favorite  and  typical  boat  is  a  great  flat  -  bottomed 
skiff,  hoUling  two  or  three  tons ;  in  length  over  all, 
twenty-two  to  twenty-five  feet ;  beam,  six  t>r  seven  feet ; 
sides  somewhat  tlarc  ;  the  stern  wide  and  square  ;  draw- 
ing tw<»  feet  of  water  when  loaded,  with  six  to  ten  inches 
freeboard;  rigged  for  four  oars,  with  steering -oar  be- 
hind. Some  of  this  type  were  thirty-five  feet  in  length. 
There  are  several  huge  scows.  Well  forward,  a  stout 
mast  is  steppeil,  upon  which  is  riggeil,  sometimes,  a 
sprit-sail,  but  usually  a  large  s<.iuare-sail  made  generally 
from  a  large  canvas  tarpaulin. 

A  party  usually  sends  two  men  ahead  to  build  the 
boats.  They  must  go  either  five  miles  up  the  river  just 
spoken  of  and  raft  the  logs  down  here,  and  ct)iistruct 
saw-pits,  or  else  to  a  patch  of  timber  two  miles  back,  and 
carry  the  lumber  all  that  distance  on  their  shoulders.  A 
saw-pit  is  a  sort  of  elevated.platform,  ten  or  twelve  feet 
high.  On  this  the  log  to  be  sawn  is  laid,  and  a  man 
stands  above  with  the  whip-saw,  while  an<»ther  wt)rks  the 
lower  end,  and  in  this  way  they  saw  the  Im^s  into  boards. 
The  boards  are  small,  rarely  more  than  nine  or  ten  inches 
in  width.  It  is  a  poor  quality  of  spruce,  soft  and  "  punky," 
and  easily  broken.  There  is  some  pine.  The  boards  are 
an  inch  thick,  and  planed  on  the  edges.  After  the  boat 
is  built  the  seams  are  calked  with  oakum  and  pitched. 
.120 


BOAT-BUILDINTt 

The  jjreen  lumber  shrinks  before  it  gets  into  the  water, 
so  that  the  boats  as  a  rule  leak  like  sieves,  but  the  goods 
rest  uix»n  slabs  laid  u[Km  the  bottom  cross-ribs. 

Everyb«>dy  is  happy,  singing  at  his  work.  When  a 
boat  is  ready  to  Ik*  launched  every  one  turns  in  t«»  help, 
for  some  have  to  l>e  carried  some  distance  to  water.  And 
when  a  bt>at  departs  it  is  with  shouts  of  good  wishes  and 
a  fusillatle  of  revolver-shots.  Xails  are  in  great  demand, 
bringing  $i  or  more  a  i)ound;  likewise  pitch,  which  com- 
mands the  same.     A  few  days  ago,  in  order  to  finish  a 


WHir-sAwix*;  boat  lumbck 


boat,  a  man  gave  $15  for  two  pounds  of  pitch.     No  one 
will  sell  lumber  at  all. 

Sklany  are  selling  out  and  going  back  even  after  reach- 
ing here. 

121 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

The  last  of  September  it  snowed  six  inches,  and  il  con- 
tinued to  snow  a  little  each  day  after  that.  We  had  to 
work  under  an  awninj;.  At  Crater  Lake  there  were  said 
to  be  snow-drifts  twenty  feet  deep.  Still  the  i>eople  were 
conr.injj,  it  beinj;  estimated  that  there  were  a  hundreil 
outfits  on  the  trail  this  side  the  summit,  as  comparetl 
with  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  two  weeks  before. 

No  one  knows  where  Jim  is.  Three  of  my  h<)rses  have 
been  taken  over  the  summit  and  are  workinjj  on  this 
side.  The  burros  are  feeding  on  rolled  oats.  Durinij  the 
day  we  had  them  they  ditied  off  tlapjacks  ;  but  this  is 
very  expensive  h»>rse-feed.  Forty  cents  a  |>ound  packinjj 
is  added  to  the  price  of  all  commodities  here.  There  are 
many  selling  out  flour  at  §20  a  pack.  L*Abl)c  here 
throws  up  the  sf^onj^e.  The  little  French  luiker.  Rich- 
ards by  name,  from  Detroit,  true  to  his  determination, 
is  here  with  ro^hIs,  having  been  working  fn>m  daylight 
to  dark,  and  even  Simps<^n,  with  his  newspa{K»rs.  He  is 
putting  his  canvas  canoe  together  with  aUler  frames. 

There  are  but  few  of  the  Isiiiiulcr  party  this  far.  I  see 
only  the  Beall  and  Bi>wman  party.  A  few  are  ahead,  but 
the  rest  are  behind  or  *m  the  Skagway  trail. 

I  was  laid  up  for  a  week — the  constant  wet  and  cold 
had  been  t(H>  much.  Work  stopi>ed  on  our  l)oat.  On  the 
4th  of  October  the  snow  went  off.  On  OctoInT  5th  our 
boat  is  finished;  we  had  decided  to  remodel  her,  giving 
her  si-x  inched  more  width  top  and  lH>tt«»m.  The  last 
seam  is  calked  to-dav,  and  she  is  carrie*!  tlown  to  the 
lake,  and  the  next  day  we  load  the  gtM)ds  int*»  her.  She 
stands  23  feet  over  all ;  6  feet  beam  ;  16  feet  by  30  inches 
bottom;  draught,  18  inches  with  1500  pounds  of  cargo. 

We  start  amid  a  salvo  of  revolver-shots.  The  lake  is 
as  smooth  as  glass — what  Brown  calls  an  "ash  breeze." 
So  he  gives  her  the  ash  oars  until  a  real  breeze  springs 


MAN    WITH    THE    HORSES 

up,  when  we  hoist  a  sprit-sail,  and  in  a  short  while  are  at 
the  foot  of  the  lake,  where  several  other  boats  are  al)out 
tube  lined  through  a  nasty  thoroughfare  into  Lake  Ben- 
nett. It  has  raised  a  great  load  of  anxiety  from  our 
minds  that  our  little  boat  carries  her  load  so  well;  alM)ve 
all,  even  when  loaded  she  responds  to  the  oars  in  a  way 
that  delights  Brown. 

While  we  are  unloading,  a  man  leading  some  horses 
with  packs  comes  down  the  bank  of  the  lake.  There  is 
something  familiar  abi>ut  him.     A  second  glance  reveals 


OUR   BATEAC    READY    FOR    LAfNCHING 


John  B.  Burnham,of  Forest  ivit/S/ri(im,  whom  I  suppose 
still  on  the  Skagway  trail,  and  tell  him  so,  whereuix>n  I 
discover  that  here,  at  Lindeman,  is  the  end  of  the  Skag- 
way trail!  Thirty -one  miles  from  Dyea  i'ut  Chilkt)ot; 
forty-five  miles  from  Skagway  vut  White  Pass! 

Bumham's  party  of  five,  seeing  that  all  could  not  get 
through,  have  undertaken  to  put  two  through  with  full 
outfits,  and  this  is  the  last  load.  Burnham  and  an- 
other are  to  undertake  the  journey  in  four  canvas  ca- 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMIMCDE 

noes,  two  canoes  being  loaded  as  freight-boats  and  taken 
in  tow. 

The  opening  of  the  White  Pass  as  a  summer  trail  was 
not  a  blunder— it  was  a  crime.  When  the  British  Yukon 
Company  was  advertising  the  White  Pass  trail  and  boom- 
ing its  town-site  and  railway  proposition,  the  trail  was 
not  cut  out  l)eyond  the  summit  of  the  pass.  There  was 
at  that  time  no  trail,  and  there  has  been  since  no  trail, 
but  something  that  they  have  called  a  trail,  marked  by 
the  dead  bodies  of  three  thousand  horses,  and  by  the 
shattered  health  and  the  shattered  hopes  and  fortunes  of 
scores — nay,  hundreds — of  men.  Captain  M<M)re,  whose 
alleged  town-site  rights  the  British  Yukon  Company  ac- 
quired, supposed  the  trail  ought  to  come  out  at  the 
Windy  Arm  of  Tagish.  The  exploration  party  of  the 
Canadian  government,  proceeding  by  the  natural  course, 
went  by  way  of  Touchi  Lake  into  Taku  Arm  of  Tagish, 
and,  in  consequence  of  their  belief  that  that  was  the 
trail,  have  established  the  custom-house  at  the  outlet  of 
Tagish. 

The  story  of  the  Skagway  trail  will  never  be  written 
by  one  person.  It  is  a  series  of  individual  ex}K*riences, 
each  unique,  and  there  are  as  many  stories  as  there  were 
men  on  the  trail.  How  much  of  the  awful  destruction 
of  horses  was  caused  by  the  trail,  and  how  much  by  the 
ignorance  and  cruelty  of  the  packers,  will  never  be 
known.  One  outfit  killed  thirty-seven  horses,  and  there 
were  others  that  equalled  or  surpasssed  that  figure.  On 
the  other  hand,  a  Black  Hills  man,  no  other  than  he 
of  the  buckskins,  at  whom  some  smiled  aboard  the 
steamer,  packed  alone  with  three  horses  twenty- four 
hundred  pounds  from  the  **Foot  of  the  Hill"  to  Bennett 
in  eighteen  days.  Each  night,  no  matter  how  tired,  he 
put  his  horses*  feet  in  a  bucket  of  water,  washed  the  mud 

«24 


THE    CRIME    OF    SKAOWAY 

off  their  lejjs  and  dried  them,  and  washed  iheir  backs 
with  salt  water.  He  came  through  when  the  trail  was 
at  its  worst,  and  sold  the  horses  at  Bennett  tor  a  fair 
sum. 

The  attempt  to  blast  the  rock  out  of  the  trail  ended  in 
a  fizzle.  The  giant-powder  ordered  from  Juneau  went 
back  unused.  The  only  real  w«>rk  was  done  by  the  min- 
ers themselves  in  corduroying.  Half-way  in  on  the  trail 
gootls  were  actually  given  away,  the  unft>rtunate  owners 
having  neither  money  nor  strength  to  pack  them  either 


:r^*%- 


A  LAUNCHING  BEF.  LAKE   LINOF.MAN 


ahead  or  back,  and  the  trail  being  in  such  terrible  con- 
dition that  outfits  not  only  had  no  sale  value,  but  could 
hardly  be  accepted  even  as  a  gift. 

At  Lindeman  comparatively  few  twats  have  t)een  sold, 
each  party  generally  building  its  own.  At  Bennett,  how- 
ever, there  is  a  saw-mill,  and  boats  have  been  built  by 

«25 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

contract,  the  prices  ranpfing  from  $^50  to.  in  certain  in- 
stances, as  high  as  $600.  Passage  to  Dawson  is  $50  light ; 
with  small  outfit,  $125. 

Landing  our  g(M>ds  and  covering  them  with  a  canvas. 
we  take  tent,  grub,  and  tools  over  to  Bennett,  a  distance 
of  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  along  a  sandy  road  through 
a  grove  of  pines.     It  is  long  since  I  have  seen  anything 
so  clean  as  this  sand.     The  air  is  grateful,  and  it  seems 
like  another  country,  only  the  ugly  clouds  hanging  over 
the  distant  white  mountains  remind  us  of  what  we  have 
left  behind.     We  set  up  our  tent  on  a  gently  sloping. 
sandy  beach,  among  other  tents.     Lake  Bennett  to  the 
north  lies  like  a  trench  between  towering,  rugged  moun- 
tains of  great  grandeur.    Their  tops  and  sides  are  white 
down  to  a  line  a  thousand  feet  alx)ve  the  lake.     Every 
day  now  this  line  is  creeping  a  little  lower.     Our  guest 
to-night  is  Mr.  Harrington,  a  powder  manufacturer  on 
a  **  vacation,**  who  has  just  helped  Burnham  over  with  a 
load.     He  tells  us  his  experiences  since  we  parted  on  the 
[shiHiicr,     He  regales  us  with  a  description  of  some  very 
fine  horse  meat  he  has  had.     I  didn't  suppose  any  one 
had  come  to  that,     Mr.  Harrington  assures  us  that  it 
wasn't  his  horse.    This  is  how  it  was:  A  party  he  knew 
had  a  young  horse  in  gcxxl  condition  that  they  had  ti> 
kill,  and  they  had  tried  the  steak  and  had  found  it  ten- 
dec     Burnham  would  testify  to  its  gixxlness,  for  he  had 
a  big  piece  that  he  was  taking  in  with  him.     I  see  now 
that  it  is  merely  prejudice  about  eating  horse.     Hitherto 
I  had  considered  it  al)out  the  last  extremity,  like  crow, 
and  it  was  hard  to  feel  that  friends  for  whom  I  had  high 
regard  should  come  to  horse,  much  less  insist  that  it 
was  good !    Alas,  what  two  months  on  the  Skagway  trail 
does  for  a  man ! 

Two  months,  and  just  starting?     Next  morning  we 

126 


RUNNING    THE    RAPIDS 

take  a  Kx>k  at  the  thoroup^hfare  between  the  two  lakes. 
It  is  a  gorjje  atK)Ut  three-quarters  of  a  mile  lonpf,  with 
rocks  eaeh  side,  but  with  a  clear  channel,  except  near  the 
lower  end,  where  the  river  splits  aj^ainst  a  larp^e,  nearly 
submervjed  n>ck.  Three  large  Yukon  boats  are  being 
lined  down  bv  six  men.  I  tell  Brown  I  think  we  can 
run  the  rapid  with  the  empty  boat.  So,  putting  Hrown 
in  the  bow  with  a  large  oar,  and  taking  position  in  the 
stern  with  another,  I  give  the  word  to  push  otf.  A  mo- 
ment later  we  strike  the  head  of  the  rapid,  taking  some 
seas,  and  then  the  banks  go  rushing  by. 

A  quick  turn  of  the  stern  oar  at  the  big  rock,  the 
double- ender  whirls,  and  soi>n  we  are  dancing  in  the 
quiet  chop  of  the  outlet,  and  come  to  a  landing  beside 
our  tent  at  the  head  of  the  lake.  This  is  how  another 
saw  it :  • 

"  As  I  came  down  the  sandy  hill  side  to  the  lake,  I  saw  at  the 
landing  two  men  unloading  a  trim-looking  dnuble-ender  b<xit  of 
distinct  individuality  that  it  needed  only  a  j^lance  to  show  was 
•vastly  superior  to  the  onlinary  Yukon  type.  One  of  the  men 
was  a  slender  six-footer,  with  a  face  wind-tanned  the  color  of 
sole-leather. 

*•  He  wore  weather-stained  clothes  that,  judj^ing  from  the  gen- 
eral sugj^estion.  no  doubt  still  carried  a  little  of  the  smoky  smell 
and  balsam  aroma  from  camps  in  the  green  wockIs  of  New  Bruns- 
wick. His  feet  were  moccasined.  and  his  black  hair  strat:>^lcd 
from  under  a  red  toboj^gan  cup.  Not  only  was  his  rig  sugj^estive 
of  the  aborij^ne.  but  his  ever)'  action  proved  him  to  be  so  thor- 
oughly at  home  in  his  untamed  environment  that  it  is  little  won- 
der that  at  first  glance  I  took  him  to  be  an  Indian. and  that  it  re- 
quired several  minutes  after  his  jolly  smile  and  voluble  greeting 
to  dispel  the  illusion. 

-  Adney  was  an  expert  at  river  navigation  ;  and  his  companion, 
though  inexperienced  in  this  kind  of  work,  was  a  champion  oars- 
man, cool-headed  and  gritty.    On  a  later  occasion  I  happened 

127 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

to  be  on  the  trail  near  the  point  referred  to.  when  I  heard 
some  men  calling  out  from  the  lop  of  the  can>on-hke  bank  that 
the  Harpfr's  Wkkki.Y  man  was  shooiin;^'  the  rapids.  I  ran 
across  just  in  time  to  see  the  Uxit  swept  by  with  the  SjK'ed  of  a 
bolt  from  a  crossbow,  leaping  from  wave-crest  to  wave-crest,  and 
drcnchinij  its  txrcujwnts  with  sheets  oi  spray.  Adney  and  Hrown 
were  standinj^  erect  in  Ik)w  and  stern,  each  wieldini;  a  sin).;le  <»ar 
used  as  a  p;iddle.  and  from  their  masterly  course  it  was  evi<Ient 
that  they  had  their  boat  well  under  control.  It  was  all  over  in  a 
very  small  fraction  of  time.  They  had  avoided  by  th_*  narrowest 
margin  japged  bowlders  that  it  seemed  iinj»o-sible  to  |>ii.s>.  and  in 
a  slather  of  f<3am  shot  out  into  the  smooth  water  below."— J.  H. 
BVKSHXM,  in  Fort'i/  a/ti/  S/nuiw. 


MI.NEltS  AT   DINNER 


CHAPTER  \ni 

Departure  from  Bennett — Storm  on  the  Lake — Klondikers  Wrecked  and 
Drowned  —  Bi|;  Trout  —  Custom-llouse  at  Ta^jish  I>ake  —  Collecling 
Duties  on  Outfits — Will  we  Get  Through  lief  ore  it  Kree/es  T — Ice  in 
Lake  Marsh — The  Canyon  and  White  Horse — Sh«x)ting  the  KapitU— 
Narrow  Escape — Accidents — Records  on  the  Trees — I)r|>arture  from 
White  Horse — Lake  l-aharjje  —  Intlian  Village  —  Trading  —  Thirty- 
Mile  Rirer — Hootalin«pia — Big  Salmon  River — Mush  Ice  —  Little 
Salmon  River  —  Fierce  Trading  —  Thievish  Indians — Refugees  from 
Dawtoo'-Five-Finger  Rapids — Starvation? — Arrival  at  Fort  Selkirk 

GALE  is  roaring  down  the  gap,  kick- 
ing up  a  great  sea  in  the  lake ;  wc 
dare  not  wait  longer;  Burnham*  not 
ready,  but  says.  **  Don't  wait.'*  There 
is  a  lull  towards  noon.  We  hoist  the 
sprit-sail;  Brown  tends  sheet,  while  I 
take  a  big  steering -oar  in  the  stern. 
In  a  few  moments  the  white-caps  are 
boarding  us;  the  sail,  having  no  boom  across  the  foot,  be- 
gins to  flap  against  the  mast,  obliging  us  to  run  under 
the  lee  of  a  rocky  point  a  mile  from  the  starting- place. 
Half  a  dozen  big  boats,  with  huge  square  sails,  that 
started  right  after  us,  scud  by  us  at  railroad  s|)eed.  We 
cut  a  boom  for  the  sail  and  pick  a  few  berries,  which  are 
very  plentiful  in  patches  among  the  rocks,  and  then  push 
off  again.  We  square  away  in  great  shape.  There  is  so 
little  freeboard  amidships  that  if  we  should  get  in  the 

139 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

trough  of  lh«.-  sea  we  would  swamp  instantly.  Our  mast 
is  toujjjh  pine»  but  when  the  wind  snatches  the  rag  of  a 
sail  it  bends  as  if  it  would  break. 

Now  begins  the  fight.  The  little  sail,  small  though  it 
is,  keeps  pulling  us  to  one  side.  Sailors  know  what  "yaw- 
ing" is,  and  it  takes  all  the  strength  of  one  pair  of  arms 
on  a  twelve  f«>ot  ash  steering-oar  t**  keep  her  head  on. 
Now  and  then  a  big  comber  comes  over  the  stern,  and 


»r<*i*«»«-.-»*~«*  r^ 


!^'---*  .     . 

^--.^  •         ■  ■Jr•r%r■'^■.''^,>'^ 


vi'-".,;^-.:-^  ■        '      .■■■■-■■-■     ■  "-''■:'*--'.,j!^»'5 


Z^--- 


±*^' 


-  '^  w^^^t^-:-^. 


^^ 


jr 'if^ijawZr-  V-   -f  ^    '*«iW      ..     '.^w^  *-^.»v  -«'fi_ 


SAIU.XO   DOWN   LAKK  KCNNETT 


we  have  to  bait     Not  a  cove  or  shelter  in  sight,  and  the 
sea  is  getting  worse, 

A  little  way  on  we  pass  a  camp  on  shore  where  they 
are  drying  gmnls  —  a  capsize,  no  doubt.  Pretty  s<x)n, 
under  the  lee  of  little  rocky  capes,  boats  are  drawn  out 
on  shore  and  parties  are  campetl,  tlriven  in  by  the  storm. 
The  raw  wind  and  the  sj)ray  stitfen  our  fingers,  but  it  is 
impossible  to  let  go  an  instant  to  put  on  mittens.     We 


NO    STARVATION    IN    ALASKA 

overhaul  some  little  boats,  and  pass  three  or  f<mr,  but 
the  big  ones  show  us  clean  heels. 

About  twelve  miles  clown,  the  lake  narrows  to  about 
half  a  mile,  and   here  the  waves   are   terriHc,  and  the 
cross-waves  break  over  the  tarpaulin  covering  the  gcxxls 
amidships.     In  the  midst  of  it  all  the  mast  g<jcs  over- 
board with  a  snap.     Brown  gathers  in  the  sail,  and,  still 
scudding,  we  drop  in  behind  a  fmint  fortunately  close  at 
hand.     Here  we  are  able  to  get  a  new  and  larger  mast. 
One  of  the  boats  we  had  passed  follows  us  in.     It  con- 
tains a  New  York  party  of  two.     When  we  start  again 
they  will  not  follow,  on  account  of  their  heavy  boat-load. 
At  evening  we  run  into  a  little  cove  opposite  the  west 
arm  of  Bennett,  with  a  smooth,  sandy  beach,  where  there 
are  other  boats.     A  few  minutes  later  a  big  Peterlwro 
canoe,  with  two  men  in  yellow  Mackinaws,  runs  in  under 
a  small  sail.     It  is  the   United   States  mail  fur  Circle 
City.     Around  the  camp-fire  that  night  eager  questions 
arc  plied  these  two  men  to  know  just  what  is  going  on 
at  Dawson,  for  they  had  left  Dawson  only  thirty -odd 
days  before. 

The  steamers  had  not  all  arrived  when  they  left,  but 
flour  was  §6  a  sack. 
•*  Would  there  be  starvation  ?*' 

Wc  get  this  reply,  spoken  slowly  and  deliberately:  **I 
have  been  eleven  years  in  Alaska,  and  there  hasn't  been 
a  year  yet  when  everybody  wasn't  going  to  starve,  but 
no  one  has  starved  yet.** 
•*  How  cold  is  it  ?•• 

•*  Cold,  but  not  so  cold  but  that  a  man  can  stand  it.  I 
spent  one  winter  in  a  tent.** 

All  of  which  is  comforting.  The  mail-carriers  have  no 
tent,  but  lie  down  on  a  tarpaulin,  with  another  over 
them,  and  are  oflf  at  daylight.     They  have  oars  rigged 

131 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

to  the  canoe,  and  expect  to  reach  Dawson  in  six  or  seven 
days. 

We  get  under  way  soon  after.  The  wind  has  moder- 
ated, but  a  heavy  sea  is  still  on.  We  run  alonjj  easily  ; 
we  pass  one  boat  that  had  an  earlier  start,  and  are  mak- 
ing every  inch  of  the  little  sail  pull  in  order  to  overtake 
another.  The  lines  of  the  bateau  jjive  it  a  tremendous 
advantage  over  the  clumsy  whii>-sawed  boats  built  at  the 
lakes. 

We  are  running  along  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  right-hand  bank,  which  rises  high  and  steep  into  the 
clouds,  when  we  see  on  the  shelving  beach  a  tent,  and 
some  blankets  and  goods  spread  out  in  the  sun.  There 
arc  a  black  dog  and  a  s<^)litary  man,  and  a  smallish  b<3at 
is  drawn  out  on  the  shore.  As  we  look,  the  man  runs 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  water  and  fires  off  a  gun,  and 
then  gets  into  the  boat.  We  run  in  closer,  and  heave  to 
as  the  man  comes  out,  rowing  frantically,  and  when  we 
get  near  enough  he  calls  out ; 

-Brown!     Brown!" 

At  some  risk  of  swamping,  we  hold  the  bateau  into 
the  wind  and  wait.  When  he  gets  within  fifty  yards  we 
can  see  that  he  is  much  excited. 

**  My  partners  !**  says  he.  "  I  haven't  seen  them — it 
was  blowing  too  hard — and  Pete  went  to  take  it  out — 
and  fell  overboard — and  McManus  went  after  him  !" 

It  is  John,  a  Russian  from  San  Francisco,  who,  w'ith 
another  Russian  and  poor  McManus,  had  worked  so  hard 
on  the  trail  We  had  seen  them  all  often,  but  did  not 
know  their  full  names.  We  gather  bit  by  bit  from  his 
incoherent  talk  that  their  sail  had  been  nailed  fast.  The 
yard  would  not  lower,  and,  in  trying  to  unstep  the  mast 
during  the  hard  blow  of  two  days  before,  Pete  had  been 
carried  overboard,  and  McManus  had  gone  into  the  icy 

>32^ 


TAGISH    LAKE 

water  to  rescue  him.  It  was  nearly  or  quite  dark  at 
the  time  of  this  accident,  and  they  were  never  seen 
again. 

How  the  Russian  managed  to  get  ashore  is  a  won- 
der. He  had  stopped  several  parties.  They  had  advised 
him  to  go  home,  but  he  is  anxious  to  get  to  Dawson. 
He  offers  Brown  half  the  outfit  to  leave  me  and  go 
with  him.  Brown  refuses.  The  outfit  consists  of  3500 
pounds  of  grub,  and  there  are  valuable  furs  and  cloth- 
ing. Brown  knows  it,  for  he  was  well  acquainted  with 
all  three.  Finally,  being  able  to  do  him  no  good,  we  turn 
on  down  the  lake,  and  last  see  him  awkwardly  trying  to 
row  his  ungainly  craft  ashore.  He  reported  later  at  the 
Canadian  custom-house,  and  it  was  rumored,  though 
with  what  truth  we  could  not  determine,  that  in  the  en- 
deavor to  reach  Dawson  over  the  ice  his  hands  and  feet 
were  frozen. 

By  noon  we  reach  the  foot  of  Bennett,  where,  in  a 
gentle  current,  between  low  banks  a  few  rods  apart,  the 
green  waters  of  the  lake  start  again  on  their  journey — 
Caribou  Crossing,  so  called  from  its  being  a  crossing- 
place  for  the  caribou.  About  a  mile,  and  the  stream 
enters  a  very  shallow,  muddy  lake,  two  or  three  miles 
long,  called  Lake  Nares,  and  then  through  another  slack 
thoroughfare  into  Tagish  Lake. 

Tagish  Lake,  although  a  single  body  of  water,  is  more  . 
like  a  group  of  lakes,  or  long  arms,  deep-set  amid  high 
mountains.  The  scenery  in  these  lakes  is  magnificent. 
We  put  a  trolling-line  out — a  large  salmon-troll,  such  as 
is  used  on  Vancouver  Island  waters — while  Brown  takes 
the  oars.  As  we  approach  the  mouth  of  Windy  Arm, 
which  enters  from  the  st)uthward,  we  expect  a  blow  and 
a  battle  with  the  cross-seas,  in  consequence  of  what  the 
guide-books  say.     Extraordinary  fortune  is  with  us,  for 

'33 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

we  row  across  its  mouth  as  on  a  lookinj^-p^Iass,  in  which 
the  tall  hills  are  doubled. 

There  is  a  tug  at  the  troliinj^^  -  line,  and  we  pull  in 
a  fine  large  trout,  in  length  alxjut  twenty  inches;  in 
color  the  belly  is  milk  white,  sides  drab  gray,  with  large, 
irregular,  often  triangular  spots  of  light ;  pectoral  hns 
steel  blue,  ventrals  tipped  with  light  yellow — a  strikingly 
handsome  fish.  We  get  several  bites,  but  hook  only  the 
one.  That  night,  in  camp  with  several  other  boats,  near 
the  end  of  the  lake,  past  the  Taku  Arm,  one  party  showed 
seven  trout,  weighing  two  or  three  pounds  apiece.  My 
own  trout  had  a  six-inch  white-fish  inside  of  it. 

Next  morning  we  are  later  than  the  others  breaking 
camp,  for  not  only  do  we  have  a  faculty  f<>r  late  rising, 
but  have  to  unload  and  reload  the  whole  outfit  on  ac- 
count of  the  leaking.  All  the  boats  are  leaking  badly, 
but  other  parties  have  more  men  to  do  the  camp-work. 
Our  boat  runs  so  easily  that  when  we  have  what  Brown 
facetiously  terms  a  good  '*  ash  breeze  "  we  can  overtake 
and  pass  them  all.  The  other  boats  are  clumsy,  and 
tiiough  many  have  four  oars  to  a  boat,  the  oars,  being 
hewn  out  of  a  pine  or  spruce,  are  so  heavy  that  they  can 
only  take  short  dips,  and  with  a  head-wind  make  no  head- 
way whatever.  The  lower  end  of  the  lake  is  full  of  ducks 
on  their  southward  migration — hundreds  of  them.  Hav- 
ing only  a  rifle,  we  miss  many  opportunities.  However, 
by  a  lucky  shot,  one  drops  while  on  the  wing  to  the 
little  30x30 — indeed,  it  is  as  easy  to  hit  them  on  the 
wing  as  while  bobbing  up  and  down  in  the  waves.  Soon 
the  lake  suddenly  narrows,  and  we  find  ourselves  in  a 
slack  current,  with  flock  after  flock  of  ducks  getting  up; 
and  after  drifting  about  two  miles,  we  see  ahead,  against 
a  bank  of  evergreens  on  the  right,  the  red  flag  <»f  Britain 
and  some  tents,  and  come  to  a  landing  in  shallow  water 

«34 


CANADIAN    CUSTOMS    OFFICERS 

at  the  Canadian  customs  office.  We  make  camp,  and  be- 
fore dark  the  others  drop  in  and  camp.  Resides  John 
Godson,  the  customs  oft'icer,  antl  several  assistants,  there 
is  a  S()uad  of  Northwestern  Mounted  Police  under  In- 
spector Strickland,  who  is  also  i)ostmaster.  The  j^olice 
are  buildin;^  a  larj^^e  \o^  barracks,  and  the  .scene  reminds 
one  of  the  lumber  wi>ods  of  the  Hast,  for  we  have  reached 


'^.?, 


■ui^ti^^'asar^. 


m 

|5j;T;^g^ 

W^-'-r^    1 

A)ffUtlCAN    MINF.RS    PAVINC   CANADI  \N   CISTOMn  lUTIF^ 

a  region  of  small  but  plentiful  timber  and  varied  animal 
life.  It  is  a  pretty  s|>ot  they  have  chosen,  commanding 
a  view  of  the  river  both  ways. 

Foreign  goods  entering  Canada  are  liable  to  duty  as 
follows:  hardware,  30  to  35  i)er  cent.;  provisions,  15  to 
20  per  cent. ;  tobacco,  50  cents  per  pound.  Average 
about  25  per  cent. 

i3S 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

To  all  appearance  Mr.  Godson  is  carrying^  out  his  in- 
structions to  deal  leniently.  Says  he :  **  I  ask  them  if 
they  have  dutiable  goods;  I  take  their  statement,  or  they 
may  offer  me  their  bills.  I  cfo  not  KH)k  into  a  man's 
boat.  I  try  to  judge  each  case,  and  I  recognize  that 
few  have  any  surplus  cash  when  they  reach  here.  In 
such  cases  I  have  taken  a  day  or  two's  labor  whip-saw- 
ing, or  something  else  in  lieu  of  cash,  holding  the  same  in 
trust  until  the  duties  are  forwarded.  I  ask  full  duty  on 
tobacco.    I  have  taken  flour  at  $20  a  sack — trail  price."* 

Mr.  Godson  pi>ints  out  that  he  could  have  stationed  in- 
spectors at  both  summits  and  collected  duties  on  Amer- 
ican horses  every  time  they  crossed  the  line ;  but  retal- 
iation by  either  government  would  only  have  ground 
the  innocent  miner  as  between  two  millstones. 

The  custom  -  house,  which  is  also  the  sleeping -apart- 
ment of  the  customs  officers  and  the  inspector,  is  a 
small  tent,  the  walls  being  raised  three  feet  higher  by 
logs  and  banked  around  with  earth.  There  is  a  stove 
inside. 

An  old-timer,  familiar  with  the  river,  who  is  cooking 
for  the  officials,  tells  us  all  that  he  doubts  if  we  get 
through. 

**You  will  get  through  Lake  Marsh,  then  the  White 
Horse;  and  if  you  get  through  Lake  Labarge  before  it 


•  There  were  many  complaints  after  leaving  the  post  of  unfair 
treatment.  One  party  bitterly  complained  to  me  that  their  medi- 
cinc-chest  had  been  "confiscated."  Mr.  (io<lson  happened  to 
mention  this  very  case  as  an  instance  of  attempted  evasion.  The 
chest  bclonj»cd  to  a  physician  who  had  distributed  its  contents 
among  eleven  men  to  escape  duty.  As  it  contaitied  j^oid-foil  and 
dentist's  tools  and  was  not  a  dt>na  Jidt  miner's  chest,  it  was  held 
until  the  owner  arrived  later.  Blankets  arn!  seasonable  clothing 
in  actual  use,  and  one  hundred  poun<ls  of  provisions  were  ex- 
empted. On  the  whole,  it  is  my  Ijelief  that  the  collection  of  du- 
ties was  made  as  easy  as  such  a  species  of  tax-levying  could  be. 

136 


COLLECTING    DUTIES    AT    NIGHT 

freezes,  you  will  make  Thirty -Mile  River,  and  possi- 
biy  Pelly  River;  and  if  you  get  that  far  you  may  get 
down  with  the  mush  ice." 

"  What  is  the  mush  ice  ?" 

He  urges  us  all  to  "Hurry!  hurry!"  So  do  all  the 
officers — to  start  that  night,  before  the  wind  changed. 

Mr.  G<Klson  goes  around  to  the  camps,  and  by  the 
light  of  the  fire  takes  inventory  of  their  go<^ds,  so  that 


CUSTOMHOUSE  AT  TAC.ISH    AND  TUB  COLLECTOR,  MtL.  JtHIN   t;ol»o.\ 


they  may  not  be  delayed  in   the  morning.     One  boat 
leaves  at  midnight. 

We  wait  until  mx)n  next  day  for  the  flotilla  of  canoes, 
which  do  riot  appear,  and  then  put  off  again.  We  think  a 
good  deal  over  Inspector  Stricklantl's  words — that  fj^r  the 
past  three  years  the  Klondike  has  been  frozen  tight  on 
the  13th  of  October.     It  is  now  the  12th. 

«37 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Lake  Marsh,  named  in  honor  of  Prof.  O.  C.  Marsh,  but 
sometimes  called  "  Mud  "  Lake  by  the  miners,  is  sepa- 
rated from  Tagish  by  a  sluj^j^ish  thoroughfare  several 
miles  long,  and  its  length  is  al)out  nineteen  miles,  nar- 
row, like  the  rest.,  and  shallow.  The  sky  is  clear,  and 
when  darkness  sets  in  the  air  grows  bitterly  cold,  and 
we  bundle  up  to  keep  warm.  Al>out  nine  o'clock  we 
put  inshore,  and  find  thin  sh«»re  ice  out  twenty  feet;  but 
we  discover  a  place  where  there  is  dry  land,  build  a  big 
camp-fire,  and  c<K>k  supper.  The  shore  ice,  as  it  rises 
and  falls  on  the  gently  undulating  surface  of  the  water, 
creaks  and  cries  for  all  the  world  like  a  hundred  fri»gs 
in  spring-time,  and  it  is  indeed  a  dismal  sound  that 
bodes  us  no  gixnl. 

"If  you  get  through  Lake  Labarge  before  it  freezes !** 

Lake  Marsh  is  freezing  and  Labarge  is  far  away. 

Waiting  only  to  finish  eating,  we  put  out  again  into 
the  lake,  whose  shores  in  the  tlarkness  we  can  <limly 
make  out,  and  head  for  a  |M)int  ab<»ut  two  miles  otf. 
We  are  about  half-way  there  when  the  Ixjw  of  the  l>oat 
crashes  into  thin  ice.  Thinking  we  are  running  ashore, 
we  turn  out  and  clear  the  ice.  Judge  our  dismay  when 
again  we  crash  into  ice!  We  cut  thn>ugh  this,  turning 
still  farther  out,  until  we  are  crosswise  of  the  lake.  Again 
we  strike  into  ice.  I  am  at  the  oars  now  We  keep  on 
pulling  with  difficulty,  each  time  cutting  the  blades  into 
the  ice  for  a  hold,  and  we  pass  through  two  or  three  dis- 
tinct belts  of  ice  that  extend  far  out  into  the  lake.  We 
are  now  almost  in  a  panic,  for  it  seems  as  if  the  outlet 
must  be  frozen  up  tight.  When  we  get  to  clear  water 
we  head  north  again,  keeping  out  fn)m  the  shore,  and 
towards  morning  we  lan<l  and  spread  our  blankets  on 
the  ground  among  some  small  spruces  on  a  low  bank, 
with  several  inches  of  snow  on  the  ground.     After  a  short 

'38 


MILES    CANYON 

nap  it  isdaylii::ht,an(!  westart  ajjain.  There  arc  no  other 
boats  in  sight.  It  is  not  a  great  way  to  the  outlet,  which 
we  know  by  the  current  that  begins  to  carry  us  along 
while  y<;t  well  within  the  lake»  and  we  are  soon  floating 
down  a  slack  stream  several  hundred  feet  wide,  with  low, 
wooded  banks. 

The  current  is  easy,  the  river  winding  about  among 
banks  of  sand  some  two  hundred  feet  high.  Along  these 
are  the  holes  of  countless  thousands  of  bank -swallows 
long  since  departed  s<iuth. 

VNTe  goon  thus  for  about  twenty  miles,  the  river  grow- 
ing more  and  more  swift.  We  lie  this  night  on  the  ground 
under  a  big  spruce  two  feet  in  diameter,  and  awake  next 
morning  wet  with  soft  snow,  which  fell  during  the  night. 
After  an  hour's  run  in  the  swift  current  we  pass  a  tine 
boat  smashed  on  a  n^k  in  mid-stream.  Stx>n  we  hear  a 
shout,  followed  bv  another,  **  Look  out  for  the  Canvon  !** 
and  on  the  right  hand  see  boats  linetl  up  in  a  large  eddy, 
below  which  is  a  wall  of  dark  rock  and  an  insignificant 
black  opening.  We  pull  into  the  eddy  alongside.  Some 
of  the  men  are  those  we  saw  at  Tagish,  and  some  we 
never  saw  before.  They  have  all  taken  a  look  at  the 
Canyon,  and  most  of  them  are  unloading  part  of  their 
goods  and  packing  it  around — a  distance  of  three-fifths 
of  a  mile.  We  go  up  the  trail  to  a  spot  where  we  can 
stand  on  the  brink  and  ltK>k  directly  down  into  the 
seething  waters  of  the  gorge. 

Miles  Canyon,  named  in  honor  of  General  Miles,  is 
about  a  hundred  feet  wide  and  fifty  or  sixty  feet  deep, 
and  the  whole  boily  of  the  Lewes  River  pours  through 
at  a  high  rate  of  speed  lx.*tween  the  f>erpendicular  walls 
of  basaltic  rock  of  the  hexagonal  formation  familiar  in 
pictures  of  the  famous  Fingal's  Cave.  Half-way  down 
the  Canyon  widens,  and  there  is  a  large  eddy,  which  the 

»;J9 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

b<xits  are  told  to  avoid  by  keeping  to  the  crest  of  the 
waves,  and  then  continuing  as  before.  A  boat  starts  in 
as  we  are  hniking,  manned  by  two  men  at  the  side  oars, 
and  with  a  bow  and  stern  steering-oar. 

After  our  trip  through  Lake  Bennett  in  the  storm  we 
feel  pretty  sure  of  our  l)oat,  so  we  conclude  not  to  carry 


AT  THE    Hr_\D  OF   TIIR  CANVOM 


any  of  our  stuff  around.  We  tuck  the  tarpaulin  down 
close  and  make  everything  snug,  and  when  Bn»wn  has 
seated  himself  at  the  oars,  and  said,  **A11  ready  !"  we  push 
off  and  head  for  the  gateway.  I  think  I  notice  a  slight 
tightening  of  Brown's  mouth,  but  that  is  all,  as  he  dips 
the  oars  and  begins  to  make  the  long  stroke  ;  but  per- 
haps he  can  retaliate  by  saying  some  unkind  thing  of  me 
at  this  time.  As  s4H)n  as  we  are  at  the  very  brink  we 
know  it  is  t<K)  late  to  turn  back, so  when  we  slide  down  the 
first  pitch  I  head  her  into  the  seething  crest.    At  the  first 

«40 


WHITE    HORSE    RAPIDS 

leap  into  the  s<>aj>su(ls  the  spray  flies  several  feet  outward 
from  the  flaring  sides.  A  dozen  or  two  huge  hinges  into 
the  crests  of  the  waves,  and  we  know  that  we  shall  ride 
it  out.  All  at  once — it  must  be  we  are  not  exactly  in 
the  middle — the  b<iat*s  nose  catches  in  an  eddv  and  we 
swing  around,  head  up  stream.  It  is  a  simple  matter  to 
turn  her  nose  again  into  the  current,  and  then  we  go  on 
again,  leaping  and  jumping  with  terrific  force.  Brown, 
who  manages  the  oars  splendidly,  keeps  dipping  them, 
and  in  a  few  moments  we  emerge  from  between  the  nar- 
row walls  into  an  open  basin. 

There  are  a  number  of  boats  here  too,  but,  having 
nothing  to  stop  for,  we  keep  on  into  Stjuaw  Rapids,  which 
some  regard  as  worse  than  the  Canyon;  when  sudtlenly 
remembering  that  the  A\1iite  Horse  Rapids  is  only  one 
and  a  half  miles  below,  we  drop  ashore,  just  above  a  turn 
of  the  river  to  the  left,  and  make  a  landing  at  a  low 
bank. 

A  view  of  the  rapids  must  first  be  had.  After  turning 
to  the  left  the  river  swings  again  to  the  right  through 
a  gorge  of  basalt  similar  to  the  Canyon  but  only  twenty 
to  thirty  feet  high  and  several  times  its  width.  For  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  it  lashes  itself  into  a  perfect  fury,  and 
then,  with  a  jumping  and  tossing,  it  bursts  through  a 
gorge  a  span  wide  with  banks  level  with  the  water,  and 
then  spreads  out  serene,  once  more  the  wide,  generous 
river.  From  a  vantage-point  on  the  bank  above  we  watch 
a  boat  going  through,  and  we  see  it  emerge  into  the  quiet 
water  and  make  a  landing. 

We  resolve  to  take  out  part  of  our  cargo;  so,  putting 
all  our  personal  baggage  ashore,  leaving  an  even  thou- 
sand pounds  in  the  boat,  which  gives  us  six  inches  or 
more  of  freeboard,  we  turn  her  nose  into  the  current. 

FoUowing  the  roughest  water,  to  avoid  rocks,  we  are 

I4i 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

soon  in  the  dancinj;  waves  and  pitchinji^  worse  by  far 
than  in  the  Canyon.  As  we  jump  from  wave  to  wave, 
it  seems  positively  as  if  boat  and  all  would  keep  rii^ht 
on  through  to  the  bottom  of  the  river.  The  water  even 
now  is  pouring  in,  and  it  is  plain  that  the  !M>at  will 
never  live  through.  One  thought  al«»ne  comforts  us  :  the 
fearful  im[K*tus  with  whirh  we  are  m<»ving  must  surely 
take  us  bt^lily  through  and  out,  and  then — we  can  make 
the  shore  somehow.  I  count  the  seconds  that  will  lake 
lis  through. 

The  effect  to  the  eye,  as  we  enter  the  great  white-caps, 
is  that  of  a  jumping,  not  only  up  and  down,  but  from  the 
sides  to  the  middle. 

Now  we  are  in.  From  sides  and  ends  a  sheet  of  water 
pours  over,  drenching  Brown  and  tilling  the  IxMt  ;  the 
same  instant,  it  st»ems,  a  big  side- wave  takes  the  little 
craft,  spins  her  like  a  top.  quick  as  a  wink,  throws  her 
into  a  boiling  etldy  on  the  left — and  we  are  through  and 
safe,  with  a  little  more  work  to  get  a>h«»re. 

Men  who  were  watching  us  from  the  l)ank  said  that 
we  disappeared  from  sight  in  the  trough.  Brown  is  wet 
up  to  his  waist.  Everything  is  afloat.  We  jump  out 
leg-deep  into  the  water  near  sh<»re,  antl,  when  we  have 
bailed  out  .some  of  the  water,  drop  the  boat  down  to 
the  usual  landing-place,  a  little  sandy  cove,  where 
we  unload,  pitch  tent,  and,  while  tripping  back  f«>r  our 
five  hundred  poiinds  of  go<Hls.  watch  the  other  lx>ats 
come  through.  They  are  all  big  ones,  and  all  get 
through  without  mishap  Our  giwxls  are  not  damaged, 
because  the  sacks  were  tight  and  they  were  wet  for  so 
short  a  time. 

We  hear  of  pilots  both  here  and  at  the  Canyon,  but 
every  man  takes  his  own  l)oat  through  to-day.  The 
pilots  take  boats  through  the  Canyon  for  from  §10  to 

142 


•  '  «- 


A    DANGEROUS    BIT    OF    WATER 

$20  each.*  Those  who  unload  have  the  worst  of  it,  as  the 
heavy  boats  ^o  throiijjh  Ix^st.  The  double  cnder  swinj^s 
so  easily  that  it  is  hard  to  steer,  and  is  rather  small  for 
the  business. 

The  White  Horse  is  a  bit  of  water  I  have  considerable 
respect  for.  The  imj>erturbable  Brown,  when  asked  how 
he  felt — if  he  were  scared — replied,  "Why,  no.  You  said 
it  was  all  rij;jht.  I  supjK^se  you  kn()W — it's  your  lH)at 
and  your  outrit."  I  l>elieve  that  if  a  charj;e  of  dynamite 
were  to  e-xpUnle  under  Brown  he  would  not  wink  an 
eyelash. 

Many  say  they  took  more  water  aboard  in  the  Canyon 
than  in  the  White  Horse,  while  S<juaw  Rapids  was  worse 
than  the  Canyon.  Once  a  dojr  swam  the  Canyon.  He 
trieil  to  follow  his  master's  U^at,  instead  of  walking; 
around.  He  was  a  water-s|)aniel,  thoujjh;  but  he  must 
have  had  more  uj>s  and  <lowns  than  he  dreamed  of  when 
he  started  in  the  quiet  water  abovt. 

There  have  been  no  drown iny^s  in  the  White  Horse 
this  year,  st>  far  as  known.  But  probably  ni>  fewer  than 
forty  drownings  are  to  be  cretlitetl  to  this  bit  of  water 
since  the  river  was  first  opened  to  white  men.  The  trail 
around  the  rapids  is  lined  with  trees  blazed  and  inscril)ed 
with  the  heroic  deeds  of  those  jjone  befi>re.  They  are 
written  on  trees,  on  scraps  of  |>aper,  on  broken  oar- 
blades.     Some  are  amusinjj,  while  all  are  interesting^. 

A  load  of  anxietv  is  otf  our  minds  now  that  we  are 
safely  through.  Next  morning,  before  starling,  we 
watch  some  boats  come  through.  It  is  a  great  sight, 
as  they  come  dancing  into  view  at  the  turn  ;  and  as 
they  go  flying  past  we  give  them  each  a  rousing  cheer. 

•Two  weeks  before  two  partners  stopped  and  made  enough 
to  buy  an  interest  in  a  Bonanza  Creek  claim. 

K  145 


.    THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

There  are  no  pilots  to-<1ay,  for  o>nraj^t'.  like  ftxir.  is  oateh- 
injj.  Last  week  it  was  the  other  way.  A  ijreat  many 
of  the  men  had  wives,  ami  they  all  had  "promised  their 
wives"  that  they  would  not  run  the  rapids.  It  was  sur- 
prising how  many  married  men  there  were. 


ciL\R.\eri:RisTic  vikw  on  vpi*kk  vi  kon  river 


Again  in  the  current.  The  hanks  have  the  same  ap- 
pearance as  above  the  Canyon,  and  are  one  to  tw*»  hun- 
dred feet  high,  of  sand,  against  which  the  current  is 
continually  wearing,  building  up  «»n  the  inside  what  the 
miners  call  "  bars."  This,  indeed,  is  the  general  charac- 
ter of  the  up|>er  Yukon — steep,  slanting  sand  or  gravel 
banks  on  the  •»utcurve,  low^  Hats  densely  timbered  with 
spruce  on  the  inside. 

About  two  hours  after  leaving  the  While  Horse,  we 
make,  as  we  suppose,  a  cut-otf  across  a  sharp  bend  to 
the   left,  and   suddenly   find    that    we   are    rowing   up- 

146 


TRADING    WITH    INDIANS 

stream — the  Tahkeena  River.  Turning  about,  we  come 
pretty  soon  to  an  enormous  loop  in  the  river.  The 
map  shows  a  slender  cut  -  off,  savings  two  miles.  The 
other  boats  are  pushinjj  us  behind,  but  the  cut-off 
is  so  slender  when  we  reach  it  that  we  conclude  that 
**  the  long  way  around  is  the  shortest  way  home." 
We  have  just  got  around  nicely  when  the  river  spreads 
out  between  bars  and  islands,  our  boat  stops  with 
a  scrape,  and  we  have  to  climb  out  and  tow  the  boat 
up-stream  until  we  find  the  channel  again.  When, 
after  much  lalK>r,  we  get  through,  we  are  chagrined  to 
find  that  the  hindmost  boats  have  taken  the  cut-off  and 
overtaken  us.  In  a  little  while  we  get  the  chop  of  a 
strong  north  wind  against  the  current,  and  at  dark  run 
into  a  lake.  Observing  a  large  camp-fire  on  the  left 
hand,  and  taking  it  to  be  a  miner's  camp,  we  make  in 
that  direction,  and  after  a  stiff  pull  suddenly  crash  into 
something  Which  prove  to  be  fish-weirs,  and,  resting,  we 
hear  children  cry»ng  and  dogs  barking  —  undoubtetUy 
an  Indian  village.  Not  caring  to  lie  awake  all  night 
watching  our  gcKxls  if  we  land  here,  we  turn  our  bow  up 
shore  and  land  behind  a  point  of  trees  al>out  a  mile  dis- 
tant, on  a  hard  beach,  at  a  pile  of  drift-wood.  Pretty 
soon  another  boat  with  three  miners  comes  along,  and 
they  build  another  fire  alongside  ours.  While  we  are 
eating  some  boiled  hn^n  that  a  lucky  shot  secured  us  on 
the  river,  two  Indian  boys  apj)ear  in  the  firelight  with 
a  bundle,  which  they  throw  down  on  the  ground  and 
stand  curiously  staring  at  us.  We  ask  them  what  they 
want,  whereupon  they  oj)en  the  bundle  and  display 
two  small  mountain -sheep  skins,  half  a  dozen  caps  of 
ground-squirrel  skins,  and  one  of  cross-fox.  The  biggest 
boy  is  about  nine,  the  other  seven  years  of  age.  They 
beg  for  something  to  eat,  and  offer  a  cap  for  a  cupful 

«47, 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

of  black  tea  (leaves),  which  our  neighbors  jjive.  One 
of  the  miners  shows  them  a  small  32-caliber  revolver, 
rusted  and  perfectly  useless.  How  their  eyes  snap ! 
They  look  it  over  carefully,  inquirinj^  by  si^ns  about 
ammunition,  and  at  length  jjive  all  their  squirrel  caps 
for  the  pistol  and  six  cartridges.  Just  then  two  Indians 
walk  up  into  the  firelight.  One  is  a  very  old  man  in 
a  fox -skin  cap,  a  blanket  -  circular  over  his  shoulders, 
close-fitting  leather  leggings,  antl  moi-casins  handsomely 
worked  with  quills.  The  other  is  a  young  man  in  store 
clothes,  who  has  learned  a  few  words  of  English  at 
Dyea.  There  is  Indian  talk  l)etween  the  four.  Pretty 
soon  the  biggest  boy  pulls  the  pistol  out  of  his  |K>cket 
and  hands  it  to  the  white  man  with  a  sheepish  lo<.)k, 
saying,  **  Papa  no  like."  The  furs  were,  of  course,  re- 
turned. **  Papa,"  standing  erect  and  uncomi)n»mising, 
dignified  and  stern,  was  admirable.  The  young  man  has 
seen  just  enough  of  civilization  to  s|H>il  him  ;  he  fawns 
and  hands  us  with  evident  pride  a  paper  iipi>n  which 
some  white  man  has  written  that  the  bearer  is  "all  right, 
and  for  white  men  to  be  kind  to  him."  We  give  them 
each  a  cup  of  tea,  and  after  a  while  they  go  away.  We 
learned  afterwards  that  we  acted  wisely  in  not  stopping 
at  their  camp,  for  between  pilfering  Indians  and  thieving 
dogs  we  should  have  had  a  sorry  time.  It  is  freezing 
to-night,  but  there  is  no  snow  on  the  ground. 

Lake  Labarge,  named  in  honor  of  Labarge,  an  exph^rer 
for  the  long-ago-projected  Russo-American  telegraph,  is 
about  thirty  miles  long  and  two  miles  wide  at  its  narrow- 
est part.  It  is  rare  that  a  strong  wind  is  not  blowing  either 
up  or  down,  so  fiercely  that  the  miners  are  often  delayed 
as  at  Windy  Arm.  In  the  morning,  however,  there  is  not 
a  breath  of  air  to  disturb  the  surface  of  the  lake.  As  Al's 
g^ood  strong  arms  send  the  boat  along  in  the  good  "ash" 


ON    LAKE    LABARGE 

breeze,  the  water  is  so  still  that  it  seems  as  if  the  boat 
were  suspended  in  the  air.  The  sij^ht  of  this  mirror-like 
surface,  with  bold  headlands  of  rounded  gray  limestone, 
patched  with  groves  of  small  dark  spruce,  is  truly  impres- 
sive. We  try  the  troll,  but  it  draj::s  so  heavy  that  we  soon 
take  it  in ;  but  there  must  be  trout  in  the  clear  green 
water  along  the  gray  cliffs.  After  a  cup  of  tea  in  a  {)retty 
sandy  cove,  the  air  begins  to  breathe  fitfully  upon  the 
smooth  surface  of  the  lake.  Now  it  has  caught  the  boats 
behind  us  and  others  along  the  far  shore.  \Vc  clap  on  sail, 
and  in  three  minutes  the  lake  is  covered  with  white-caps. 
We  scud  along  until  dusk  ;  there  is  not  a  niche  in  the 
frowning  wall  of  rock  into  which  we  can  run  and  camp. 
Darkness  falls  and  we  can  only  steer  for  the  dim  outlet, 
where  a  twinkling  glimmer  shows  us  a  miner's  camp-fire. 
In  half  an  hour  a  piu'nt  of  land  suddenly  opens  up,  and  we 
secchjse  at  hand  a  large  camp-fire,  and,  when  we  are  near 
enough  to  hail,  some  men  on  shore  direct  us  into  a  shel- 
teretl  bight  alongside  two  large  boats.  They  prove  to 
be  friends  from  Lindeman,  who  left  there  one  week  be- 
fore. We  lay  our  blankets  on  the  hard,  frozen  beach 
gravel,  with  the  tent  over  all  to  keep  off  dew,  and  we 
sleep  warm,  but  the  others,  who  have  stoves  inside  their 
tents,  complain  bitterly  of  the  cold.  In  the  morning  we 
are  white  with  frost.  Another  night  like  this,  with  a 
still  lake,  and  Labarge  would  close ;  as  it  is,  there  is  con- 
si<lerable  thin  ice  along  shore.  In  the  spring  the  ice  in 
Lake  I^l>arge  docs  not  break  up  for  a  week  or  more  after 
the  river  is  clear.  The  miners,  when  they  reach  the  head 
of  the  lake,  instead  of  waiting  for  the  ice  to  go  out,  often 
place  their  boats  on  sleds  and  with  the  strong  south 
wind  behind  them  glide  over  the  lake,  which  at  that 
season  is  as  smooth  and  glare  as  a  Nittle. 

Leaving  our  friends  to  follow,  we  pull  to  the  outlet, 

149 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

one  mile  away,  and  observe  that  we  ran  a  grave  risk  of 
running  upon  a  reef  exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  out- 
let— a  nice  predicament  for  a  stormy  night.  From  here 
to  the  junction  of  the  HiM)taliniiua,  distant  27.5  miles  by 
survey,  the  Lewes  is  calloci  by  the  miiuTs  "Thirty-Mile 
River."  The  boat  slips  along  in  the  swift  current  as  fast 
as  the  most  eager  can  wish,  rapid  after  rapid,  with  rocks 
here  and  there  popping  up,  making  navigation  really 
dangerous.  Just  as  we  are  pulling  otT  from  our  hasty 
lunch  a  big  boat  with  four  oars  turns  in^  containing  the 
little  black  French  baker  from  Detroit,  who  is  here,  after 
working  like  a  horse  day  and  night  on  the  trail.  But  Jim, 
he  says,  will  not  get  out  of  the  mountains.  As  the  |>arty 
intend  to  stop  at  Stewart,  we  lake  letters  to  post  in  Daw- 
son for  frientls  at  home.  S<M)n  after  lunch  we  dash 
through  a  break  in  the  wall  of  hilU,  out  into  a  broad 
valley  and  a  leisurely  current — that  of  the  Hoolalinqua, 
or  Teslintoo,  River,  which  drains  Lake  Teslin.  Ltx^king 
up-stream  any  one  would  say  that  the  IIiKjtalinipia 
was  the  main  river  valley  and  a  larger  stream  than  the 
Lewes.  But  the  discharge  of  the  Hootalinqua  is  con- 
siderably less  on  account  of  its  slower  current.  The 
water,  no  longer  clear  and  limpid,  is  yellow  and  muddy, 
while  the  whole  asjK'ct  of  the  country  has  become  more 
mild.  White  birches  are  seen  for  the  first  time;  the 
cottonwoods  are  larger,  the  very  spruce  greener,  due  to 
the  lower  altitude. 

But  the  winter  is  coming  on  faster  than  altitude  dimin- 
ishes. We  work  hard  with  both  oars  and  paddle,  and  over- 
take more  boats,  which  prove  to  be  of  our  own  crowd  of 
yesterday,  who  kept  on  through  the  lake  in  the  night  and 
got  the  start  of  us  this  morning.  One  of  them  has  a  stove 
jct  up,  and  they  do  all  their  cooking  aboard,  which  saves 
time.    As  the  boat  drifts  along,  with  the  smoke  pouring 

"50 


dreary'  outlook 

out  of  the  stove-pipe,  it  looks,  at  a  little  tli>tance,  like  a  tli- 
minutive  steamboat.  At  Jiisk  our  companions  turn  in  to 
camp,  but  \\c  jj^o  on.  After  rowinj^  for  several  miles  with- 
out finding  a  camping-place,  we  diM.-over  a  little  break  in 
the  bank,  which  turns  out  to  be  the  mouth  of  a  small  creek. 
It  is  like  a  little  canal,  about  ten  feet  wide.  While  we  are 
dragginjj  the  boat  into  it,  Brown's  b*n>i  sticks  in  the  muVI. 
and  in  trying  to  lift  it  he  falls  full  length  into  the  water, 
and  I  have  to  build  camp  while  he  changes  his  clothes. 
The  outl«>ok  is  certainly  dreary.  Snow  on  the  grouml. 
and  little  wo<hI  to  build  the  tire.  Cutting  a  green  spruce 
for  boughs,  we  lay  them  on  the  ground  in  front  i>f  the  Hre 
made  of  half-dead  wood,  and,  rigging  the  o;irs  and  p«»les 
intoatepee,  throw  the  tent  aroimd  them.  The  thermome- 
ter has  stt>od  at  29"  all  day,  with  a  wretched  wind  from  the 
north.  We  observe  signs  of  mu>k-rat  and  l>eaver  here,  s-> 
the  winters  cannot  be  so  terrible.  After  Brown  has  turnetl 
in  under  the  blankets,  the  little  note-l^>ok  comes  out,  and 
in  the  glow  of  the  red  hre  the  day's  notes  are  written  up. 
We  have  lost  track  of  the  days.  ( )ur  apfK-tites  are  grow- 
ing bigger.  We  don't  do  much  c«M»king.  l)eing  s;itisfieiJ 
with  hardtack  and  rolled-oat  mu>h.  made  in  fifteen  min- 
utes, served  with  condensed  milk  and  sugar,  and  riaf>- 
jacks  cooked  in  the  frying-pan.  Every  man  on  the  trail 
has  learned  the  toss  of  the  wrist  antl  rtip  of  the  frying-pan 
in  preparing  this  staple  article  «>f  the  pros|>ector*s  diet. 
In  the  morning  we  are  otT  at  daybreak  ahead  of  all  rivals. 
Towards  noon,  as  we  approach  l^ig  Salmon  River,  which 
enters  on  the  right,  we  see  something  aheatl  that  looks 
like  foam.  Running  into  it,  we  see  that  it  is  masses  of 
fine  crystals,  loosely  held  t*»gether  like  lumps  of  snow. 
It  is  the  first  of  the  miish  ice  running  out.  We  jab  f>ad- 
dles  through  it,  remembering  what  the  old  ct>ok  had 
said,  but  soon  leave  it  behintl  us. 

151 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Brown  prefers  rowinjj  to  steerinpf,  so  we  agree  ikU  to 
change  off.  Brown  has  taken  to  our  rough  ramps  like 
an  old-timer.  The  other  night  when  we  had  to  lie  among 
some  very  uneven  hummocks  and  stumps,  instead  of 
growling  he  merely  said,  **  We  accommodated  ourselves 
to  the  lumps  first-class." 

As  we  near  the  Little  Salmon  River,  thirty-six  miles 
below  Big  Salmon,  a  lK)at  just  ahead  is  seen  to  land  and 
take  aboard  three  small  Indian  boys  with  shot-guns,  evi- 
dently a  juvenile  hunting-party.  A  mile  farther  we  pass 
the  mouth  of  Little  Salmon  on  the  right,  and  see  ahead 
smoke  from  a  camp  and  a  group  of  men  on  the  bank. 
The  men  begin  waving  their  arms  .:»nd  shv)uting  to  at- 
tract our  attention,  and  we  run  in  to  shore.  It  is  a  large 
encampment  of  Indians.  They  have  built  a  sort  of  land- 
ing-place out  of  logs,  floored  with  hewn  Ixiards,  evidently 
for  boats  to  land.  As  we  make  fast  the  float  is  crowded 
with  the  most  dirty,  smoky,  ragged,  ill-looking  creatures, 
and  more  come  running  down  the  bank,  all  excited,  and 
carrying  things  evidently  for  sale.  They  are  old  men, 
young  men,  boys  children  with  sore  eyes.  One  man  carries 
a  tanned  m(K>se  hide ;  others  a  dried  salmon,  a  chunk 
of  black  smoked  moose  or  caribou  meat,  a  black -l)ear 
skin,  a  grizzly- bear  skin,  a  dog  skin,  a  spi>on  made  of 
mountain-sheep's  horn,  a  beaver  skin,  etc.  As  I  step  out 
on  the  platform  first  one  and  then  another  begins  pulling 
at  my  arms  and  clothes,  and  every  way  I  look  an  arm 
clutching  something  is  thrust  into  my  face,  with  a  regu- 
lar hubbub  of  vt>ices.  To  escape  the  fury  of  the  on- 
slaught, I  jump  back  into  the  stern  of  the  l>oat,  think- 
ing how  fortunate  it  is  that  the  boat  is  well  covered 
with  canvas.  We  have  a  box  al)out  a  ftwit  long  that  we 
keep  our  kitchen-stuff^,  candles,  etc.,  in.  It  hapj)ens  to 
be  left  exposed  and  they  catch  sight  of  it.     One  seizes  a 

«5J 


TRADING    WITH    INDIANS 

candle,  another  a  bar  of  tar  s<\ip,  and  they  bejjin  oflfcrinj; 
to  buy,  callinjj  out,  "How  muchee?"  "How  muchee?" 
They  have  money — silver  dollars  and  half-dollars. 

I  can't  see  what  they  want  with  soap,  but  sell  them 
the  cake  for  half  a  dollar.  We  need  the  sjH>ons  an<l 
candles  ourselves,  st>  I  make  a  sortie  and  take  a  lot  of 
things  away.  They  next  catch  sijjht  of  my  camera, 
and  one  man  offers  $5  for  it.  I  am  t<x)  confused  and  busy 
seeinjj  that  nothing;  jjets  away  to  find  out  what  they 
think  the  camera  is.  Brown  is  in  his  element;  he  has 
the  trader's  instinct.  He  has  <>pened  up  five  or  six  pounds 
of  tobaco*,  and  is  up  front,  with  a  crowd  of  Indians 
around  him,  ii^e'ttiny:^  rid  of  it  at  4  bits  (50  cents)  a  plujj. 
An  old  Indian,  a  gentle-l<H>king  old  fellow,  sees  my  rifle, 
which  I  always  keep  in  reach.  I  show  it  to  him,  explain- 
ing the  **take  down"  feature  and  the  Lyman  sight.  His 
eyes  glisten.  He  cannot  speak  a  w«)rd  of  English.  He 
says  S4»mething  to  a  young  man  l)eside  him  with  :*  snook 
of  dirty  l»lack  hair  reaching  to  his  shoulders  und  a  re<l 
handkerchief  tieil  around  his  forehead,  and  the  young 
man  puts  his  hand  in  his  i*»cket  and  pulls  out  a  $20 
gold  piece  and  offers  it  to  me,  at  the  same  timv'  |>oint- 
ing  to  the  gun.  I  shake  my  head.  A  word  from  ibe 
old  man  and  the  young  man  dives  in  his  f>ocket  again 
and  hands  five  silver  dollars  along  with  the  gold  piece. 
I  shake  my  head.  IX»wn  he  g*>es  again,  and  this  lime 
shows  five  m<»re.  making  $30  in  all.  He  is  going  up  $5  at 
a  jump,  and  evidently  means  to  own  the  gun  ;  but,  hav- 
ing no  intention  of  parting  with  it  at  any  price,  I  put  it 
away,  and  convince  him  that  it  is  |>ositively  not  for  sale. 

At  this  moment  there  is  a  hubbub  around  the  U>at 
that  picked  up  the  little  l>oys.  A  sudden  outcry,  then 
some  run  up  the  l)ank  and  others  o)me  running  down.  It 
is  wild  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  the  excitement  sub- 

"53 


THE    KLONDIKK    STAMPEPE 

sides.  Plainly,  snmtthin^  is  iij).  I  ask  the  fellow  with 
the  red  haiulkeniiicf,  wlio  speaks  a  few  w«>rds  of  Eng- 
lish.    He  replies,  with  a  smile,  *' ( )h.  jii>l  Injun  talk.'* 

An  old  Indiaii  with  a  blankit  offers  a  pair  of  mittens 
trimmed  with  ermifie.  I  ask,  *'IIi»w  mueh  ?'  "Two 
dollars"  (I  thoiij^ht  he  said).  I  hand  him  two  silver 
dollars,  and  he  hands  me  the  mittens,  an<l  stands  wait- 
ing, repeating  "Two  ilolla" — something.  Then  I  under- 
stand he  means  $^.50.  I  sliake  my  head.  He  still  re- 
peats, **  Four  bits."  S»  I  hand  the  miitens  back  and 
demand  my  money,  which  is  still  clinched  in  his  Hst. 
He  refuses  to  give  it  up,  and  makes  signs  for  me  to 
give  him  back  the  mittens.  I  make  >igns  that  I  have 
just  given  them  to  him.  He  says  v»mething,  shakes  his 
head,  and  feels  all  over  himself — the  old  x-ountlrel.  In- 
stantly I  jump  up,  so  that  the  whole  b<»at  can  be  seen, 
and  then  lift  the  cover  clear,  so  it  can  be  seen  by  all  that 
the  mittens  are  not  there.  Then  I  step  off  the  platf«»rm 
and  actually  have  to  pry  the  dollars  out  of  his  tist. 

After  several  vain  efforts  to  pull  Br«»wn  away  from  his 
customers,  I  start  to  push  the  l>oat  otT,  when  the  last  of 
the  Indians  clambers  out.  Just  as  wc  push  off,  the  old 
villain  who  tried  to  ffimtlam  me  out  of  $»  came  running 
to  the  boat,  threw  alH)ard  the  mittens,  which  I  knew 
very  well  he  had,  and  holds  out  his  hand  for  the  $j, 
which  I  give  him. 

I  never  knew  until  now  that  so  much  vt»ice  and  musi'le 
could  be  put  into  the  operation  of  exchanging  com- 
modities. The  meth(Kl  is  to  get  hold  of  something  they 
want  in  the  clinched  fist,  pressed  light  against  their 
breast,  at  the  same  time  shoving  what  they  have  to  sell 
into  one's  face,  like  a  man  making  pa>scs  with  l>o.\ing- 
gloves,  accompanied  by  cries  and  grunts  to  attract  at- 
tention.   When  twenty  dirty  savages  arc  doing  this,  the 

154 


ROBBED    BY    INDIANS 

effect  can  be  imajjinccK  A  Baxter  Street  clnthinp:  man 
would  be  skinned  alive,  or  else,  like  the  cats  of  Kilkenny, 
there  would  be  nothing  left  of  either  at  the  end  of  the 

trade. 

When  mc  camp  that  nii^ht  we  hear  of  the  trouble. 

-One  of  the  Injuns/'  s;iys  one  i»f  the  men  that  were 
in  the  b«»at,  **  handed  me  a  watch  he  said  he  had  l)ou^(ht. 
I  looked  at  it  and  handed  it  back.  It  dropped  out  of  his 
hand  and  struck  on  a  rock  am!  broke  the  crystal.  He 
picked  it  up  and  l(M>ked  at  it,  and  then  handed  it  to 
me.  I  tcx>k  it  and  saw  that  the  crystal  was  broken. 
Just  then  he  raised  a  howl,  and  all  the  Injuns  came 
runnin'd<»wn,  and  the  fellow  said  I  had  broken  the  watch 
and  he  wanteil  me  to  buy  it  ft»r  $35  or  pay  $5  for  a  new 
crystal  in  Daws4»n.  It  looked  like  there  was  going  to 
be  trouble.  They  had  three  shot-guns  loaded,  and  our 
rifles  were  cin'ered  up  where  we  couldn't  get  at  them, 
and  wc  thought  we  had  better  pay  the  $5  and  have  no 
trouble. 

-Them  little  devils  we  took  into  our  boat — why,  they 
came  aboard  with  guns  all  cocked.  We  gathered  the 
gunsand  let  the  hammers  down,  and  they  just  laid  back 
and  laughed." 

When  we  take  stock  from  our  belongings  we  find  miss- 
ing a  pair  of  scissors,  a  bag  of  tobacco,  and  a  candle  out 
of  the  **wamgun"  b*>x. 

These  Indians,  pilfering  thieves  that  they  are,  doubt- 
less are  only  practising  on  the  white  men  what  the  Chil- 
caLs  have  taught  them  ;  they  are  only  getting  even. 

Next  morning  a  cold  north  wind  and  a  heavy  mist  over 
the  water;  camp  thirty-eight  miles  l>elow  Little  Salmon. 
Cold  night,  and  heavy  mist  again  in  the  morning  makes 
it  difficult  to  see  where  to  steer  among  the  islands 
and  bars,  which  are  numerous  in  this  part  of  the  river. 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

The  mist  is  dissipated  by  the  risinj;  sun,  but  there  is 
a  brisk  raw  wind  in  our  face,  and  the  b<»at  is  leakinij 
badly.  Brown  to-<lay,  while  rowinjj,  keeps  his  coat  on 
for  the  first  time. 

The  little  ** steamboat"  with  us  ajjain.  At  noon  we 
fasten  al<ingside,  and  use  their  st«»ve  f«»r  makinjj  some  tea 
and  flapjacks.  We  pass  a  lo^-cal)in  on  an  extensive  flat 
on  the  left  bank.  Two  Indian  men  and  an  old  stpiaw 
beckon  for  us  to  stop,  but  we  have  hati  enouj^h  of  Indians. 
It  provetl  to  Ixf  the  tradinj:^-[>ost  «>ccupied  by  (leorjije 
Carmack  just  before  he  went  down  river  and  found  the 
gold  on  Bonanza  Creek. 

We  overhaul  a  bunch  of  four  bi>ats  driftinjj,  the  men, 
with  j{uide-btM>ks  out,  scanning  the  river  ahead.  They 
say  Five-Finpjer  Rapids  is  close  at  hand,  and  at  every 
Island  they  make  ready  to  pull  ashore,  l>ein^,  it  seems  to 
us,  unduly  apprehensive.  But  we  are  n«>t  in  doul)t  when, 
turninjj  suddenly  to  the  rij^ht.  a  jjreat  Ijarrier  l«K>ms  up 
a  mile  ahead  —  five  j^reat  irregular  blocks  of  recMish 
rock  ranjjinj;  across  the  river  like  the  piers  of  a  bridge 
— making  two  principal  channels.  That  on  the  left  is 
growling  <)min«>usly  over  shallow  rocks,  so  we  turn  to 
the  right  and  drop  into  a  small  etiily  a  few  hundred  feet 
above  the  great  wall.  We  climb  up  and  l«K»k  at  the  rapid. 
It  seems  by  no  means  tlangerous.  The  o|)ening  is  alK>ut 
one  hundretl  feet  wide,  with  vertical  walls,  through  which 
the  river  sudtlenly  droj)s  a  couple  of  fttrt,  the  waves  rising 
angrily  in  a  return  curl,  then  dancing  «>n  in  rapidly 
diminishing  chops  until  lost  in  the  swift  current  beK>w. 

The  other  boats,  evidently  not  seeing  our  eddy,  have 
stopped  half  a  mile  above,  and  are  roping  down  the 
shore.  Without  waiting  (it  being  too  late  in  the  day 
for  a  successful  photograph),  we  turn  our  prow  s<juarely 
for  the  middle  of  the  cleft ;  a  drop,  a  sma^h,  a  few  quarts 

156 


SWAPPING    EXPERIENCES 

of  water  over  the  sides,  and  we  are  shot  thr«Mi<rh  into 
the  fast  current,  without  even  lookinjjj  back.  Swm  we 
hear  the  roar  of  Rink  Rapids,  six  miles  In-low  that  of 
Five-Finjjer;  but  keepinj:^  close  to  the  rii^ht  Itank,  ac- 
cordinjj  to  <lirections,  we  Hnd  them  nothinjj^  l>ut  a  bad 
reef  extendinjj  half-way  across  the  river,  on  the  left ;  on 
the  right  there  is  not  even  a  ripple. 

We  run  until  dark,  camping  in  four  inches  of  snow,  but 
with  plenty  o{  dry  wood,  some  of  the  spruce  l>eing  two 
feet  thnuigh.  The  five  other  l>oats  drop  in,  and  we  swap 
experiences  around  the  tire.  One  young  fcll«»w.  a  ln>y  of 
about  twenty,  tells  how  he  came  t<)  t)e  here.  **  I  was  in 
Seattle  at  the  time,  and  I  just  wrote  home  that  I  was 
g<ung  in  with  all  the  rest  of  the  crowd  of  crazy  f«Mils.'* 
None  of  his  crew  knew  anything  alniut  river  navigation 
when  they  started,  and  they  have  been  spending  half 
their  time  on  bars.  Another  story  is  of  a  man  who  got 
into  the  big  eddy  in  the  Canyon  and  s|)cnt  three  hours 
rowing  round  and  round,  not  knowing  how  to  get  out. 
Not  one  life  (that  any  of  us  has  heard  of)  has  been  h»st 
this  summer  at  the  White  Horse,  but  there  have  been 
several  smashes.  One  party,  who  roped  their  boat 
through  instead  of  running,  lost  all  their  |>ork  and  flour 
by  the  swamping  of  the  boat.  Twenty-four  other  boats 
that  day  ran  the  rapids  safely. 

The  river  from  now  on  is  very  wide,  and  split  up  into 
numerous  channels  by  wo<Hled  islands.  We  run  into  what 
looks  like  a  go<Ki  channel,  following  the  left  l>ank,  when 
all  at  once  the  river  shoals,  and  we  only  get  off  !)y  wading 
and  dragging.  A  deeper  IkxU  would  never  have  got  out 
of  the  trap.  We  are  nearing  the  Pelly,  but  canni»t  see 
the  river,  though  its  valley  is  visible  an  the  right.  Swing- 
ing to  the  west  and  skirting  a  high,  flat  bank,  we  pa.ss 
a  small  steamer  drawn  out  of  the  water,  then  a  cabin, 

«57 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMPEDE 

then  several  more,  anil  finally  draw  up  in  front  of  a  cluster 
of  log  buiklings,  where  a  tnulilcn  path  Kails  up  the  snow- 
covered  bank.  There  is  no  human  Uin^  in  sight,  but 
half  a  dozen  wolfish,  hungry-looking  d<>gs  come  bound- 
ing down  the  bank  with  a  vt)lley  of  barks,  which  tjuickly 
subsides  into  curiosity  mingled  with  ill -disguised  suspi- 
cion. They  are  the  native  Eskimo- Indian  dog,  heavy, 
thick-haired,  with  powerful  legs  and  neck,  a  sharp  muzzle, 
slanting  eyes,  and  short,  erect,  wolf  ears.  A  l«K)k  at  them, 
and  a  slight  knowledge  of  their  kind,  decides  us  u>  anchor 
the  boat  a  little  distance  from  shore  by  fastening  a  ten- 
foot  pole  to  the  bow  and  resting  the  other  enil  in-shore, 
the  long  painter  being  made  fast  to  a  post  above. 


HZ.'-^/c 


rACSIXTLE  OP  A  RECORD  ON   A  TREE  AT  TIIR  WHITE  HORSE  R.\riDS 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Former  Hu«lM>n's  Hay  l*o>t — I*re^nt  .\l.iNk;t  dmimerci.il  Com|»any  Store — 
Talks  wiih  ihe  Storcki-c|Hr — More  aUiut  the  >hMrt.ij^e  of  (.Iru]>  — St.>rt 
from  Fort  Selkirk — Ht-.ivy  Ice — IWI«»vv  Zero— Miners  Hauler!  Out, 
Waiting;  fi>r  River  toCkar — I>an|;trrN«>f  the  IltM%y  Ice  —  Stewart  River 
—Accident  in  the  Swee|>ers — Sixty-Mile  IV»st — "This  is  I>a\vv>n" 

Oitof^er  22. 

,ORT  SKLKIRK  lies  on  the  left  bank  of 
ihe  Lewes,  a  mile  l>el(»\v  its  junction 
with  the  Pelly.  These  streams  are 
alH.ut  equal  in  size,  anil  together  form 
the  Yukon  proper.  The  hrst  |)ost  of 
that  name  was  built  at  the  junction 
ot  the  two  rivers  in  1S48  by  Robert 
Campbell,  an  employe  of  the  Hudson's 
Bay  Company,  who  entered  the  region  that  year  by  the 
head  of  the  Pelly,  and  was  occupietl  until  1S53,  when,  on 
account  of  the  tianger  from  ice  during  the  spring  over- 
flow, it  was  removed  to  the  present  site.  That  same  year 
a  band  of  Chilkats,  who  had  been  watching  with  jealous 
eyes  the  enciroachmentsof  the  company  u|M)n  their  hither- 
to exclusive  trade  with  the  interior,  or  "Slick,"  Indians, 
raided  the  post  during  Campbell's  absence  and  burned 
the  buildings  to  the  ground.  Fort  Yukon  had  l)een  es- 
tablished in  1847,  at  the  junction  t>f  the  Porcupine  and 
Yukon,  by  A.  H.  Murray,  of  the  same  company ;  but  it 
was  not  supposed  that  the  "Pelly"  of  Campbell  and  the 
Yukon  were  the  same  stream  until  several  vears  later, 

159 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

when  Cainplh-'ll  (Iroppfil  down  the  river  to  F(»rt  Yukon 
and  proved  them  identical.  Fort  Selkirk  had  been  so 
difficult  to  maintain,  haviu)^  been  supplied  in  the  last 
two  years  of  its  existence  via  Fort  Yukon  and  the 
porcupine  and  Mackenzie  Rivers,  that  it  was  never 
rebuilt.     In  1883,  Lieutenant  Frederick  Schwalka  noted 


:,h^\^XtLhii^' 


p^-fii 


^^.:^  :<'-'' ^ 


THADING-msT   AT   FORT    ««FIKIRK    Ifw^KINC   TOWARDS    TIIK    VIKON 
FROM    1  ilK   Ml  K  or   THK  uLU   HI  Dmi.n's   bAV   CoMI'ANV':*  l-U^tF 


that  two  stone  chimneys  of  the  <>ld  jwst  were  then 
standinjj;  at  the  present  time  even  these  are  j^one 
and  no  monument  remains  of  the  s{)lendid  fortitude 
of  Robert  Campl)ell  and  of  the  enterprise  of  his  great 
company,  except  some  blackened  bits  of  rtcH>r  logs  and  the 
name  which  he  gave.  The  site  of  the  old  post  is  still 
pointed  out,  a  few  yards  in  the  rear  of  the  present  build- 
ings, which  consist  of  a  store  and  dwelling-house  built 
of  logs,  and  several  small  log -cabins,  belonging  to  Ar- 

l6o 


ALASKA  COMMERCIAL  COMPANY'S  POST 

ihur  Harper,  an  a^ent  of  the  Alaska  Commercial  Com- 
pany. These  buikling^s,  and  some  others  in  the  dis- 
tance, occupied  by  Indians  and  a  mission,  and  a  long 
pile  of  cord  -  wood,  are  all  that  meet  the  eye  as  we 
scramble  on  hands  and  feet  up  a  very  steep  and  slip- 
pery  path  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  ft >! lowed  by  such  of 
the  dogs  as  have  perceived  the  hopelessness  of  raiding 
our  boat. 

A  little  smoke  rising  out  of  a  pipe  in  the  roof  of  the 
nearer  building  is  the  only  sign  of  life,  except  the  dogs. 
A  paper  tacked  to  the  side  of  the  door  reads  that  no 
steamer  has  been  up  for  two  years  and  there  are  no 
provisions  for  sale,  e.xcept  some  condensed  milk  at  a 
dollar  a  can.  Stopping  only  to  glance  at  this,  we  walk 
in  and  find  ourselves  in  a  room  about  fifteen  by  eighteen 
feet,  with  ceiling  of  rough  b<^ards  laid  over  heavy  joists, 
hardly  higher  than  one's  head,  with  one  corner,  embrac- 
ing the  doorway,  fenced  off  fr^>m  the  rest  by  a  wide  board 
counter,  evidently  designed  so  that  the  Indians,  who  re- 
sort hither  to  exchange  their  furs  for  white  men's  gcH)ds, 
may  not  handle  the  bolts  of  white  and  red  cotton  cloth, 
blankets,  boxes  of  tobacco,  etc.,  which  scantily  cover 
some  rude  shelves  against  the  back  wall.  A  small  glass 
show-case  on  the  counter  contains  an  assortment  of 
knives,  needles  and  thread,  etc.  Hanging  from  nails  in 
the  back  wall,  and  from  the  ceiling,  are  black  bear-skins, 
tanned  mcHJse-hides  (a  pile  of  which  also  lies  on  the  fioor), 
several  bunches  of  sable-skins,  and  eleven  beautiful  sil- 
ver-gray and  black  fox-skins.  Long,  narrf)W  snow-shoes, 
moose-hide  moccasins,  and  mittens  lie  on  the  shelves, 
floor,  and  counter,  while  a  ladder  at  the  back  leads  to 
a  loft  overhead.  The  interior  is  lighted  by  two  small 
windows  in  the  front  and  another  in  the  end,  and  a 
globular  iron  stove  in  the  near  ct)rner  throws  out  a  heat 
L  i6l 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

that  accentuates  a  pervadinj^  smell  of  smoked  leather 
and  furs.  At  a  small  desk  behind  the  counter  stands  a 
little,  prave,  s<>l)er  man,  with  dark,  thin  l)earil,  the  sole 
person  in  charjjeof  this,  a  typical  Northwest  Indian  trad- 
ing-post, and,  as  it  proves,  the  only  white  man  in  the 
whole  place,  the  agent,  Mr.  Harper,  having  gone  "out- 
side."* 

After  ntnlding  good-day  and  inquiring  if  we  have  made 
our  goods  safe  from  the  dogs,  the  store-keeper,  J.  J.  Pitts 
by  name,  patiently  answers  our  incpiiries  al>out  the  con- 
ditions at  Dawson.  Then  we  put  our  names  down  on 
some  sheets  of  foolscap,  which  Mr.  Pitts  says  is  a  reg- 
ister of  all  who  have  gone  by  this  summer,  save  al>out 
one-third  who  have  passed  without  stopping,  from  which 
it  appears  that  about  3600  per.sons  have  passed  in.  We 
prepare  to  go  on.  intending  to  camj>  in  the  W(x>ds  a  few 
miles  below,  when  in  the  most  cjuiet  way  jxissible  the 
grave  little  man  remarks  that  we  had  better  bring  our 
stuff  up  and  stop  in  Mr.  Harper's  eabin — an  invitation 
that  does  not  need  pressing.  While  we  are  gone  ft>r 
grub-sack,  ctx^king- tools,  and  blankets.  Mr  Pitts  has 
kindled  a  fire  in  a  small  cabin  back  of  the  warehouse. 
After  building  the  fire,  he  brings  in  a  small  kerosene 
lamp  (the  only  one  in  the  place,  we  discovered),  and 
then  leaves  us  to  ctK)k  sui)|)er. 

Our  cabin  comprises  a  single  room.  al>out  twelve  by 
fourteen  feet  inside,  with  an  eight  -  fo<it  wall,  a  small 
window  at  the  south  end,  and  another  at  the  north.  The 
furniture  consists  of  a  rude  board  table,  the  butt  of  a 
log  for  a  chair,  and  an  empty  bunk,  or  stationary  bed 
for  two  persons,  in  one  corner.     After  supper  we  repair 

•  Mr.  Arthur  Harper,  concerning  whom  more  will  be  said,  died 
at  Los  Angeles,  California,  the  same  winter. 

i6a 


THE    STOREKEEPER 

to  the  big^  house  and  s|K*n(l  the  eveninjj  talking  over 
a  bottle  of  Scotch,  a  rare  luxury  here. 

No  one  would  take  Pitts  for  a  miner  ;  and,  if  eagerness 
to  sell  g(K>ds  were  a  qualification  in  a  trader,  he  woidd 
not  be  considered  even  a  gootl  trader.  As  a  person  who 
had  stopped  at  the  post  once  facetiously  remarked,  Mr. 
Pitts  **  seemed  sorry  if  any  one  l>ought  anything  out  of 
the  store.**  He  is  a  man  wrapped  in  his  own  thoughts. 
Sometimes  such  men  are  cranks.  Every  man  becomes 
a  crank  who  stays  long  in  this  country.  Antl  who.  but 
an  old-timer  would  growl  and  growl,  and  then  give  the 
best  in  the  house?  It  is  an  instructive  talk  for  us,  his 
being  the  first  intelligent  account  of  facts  and  condi- 
tions that  we  had  heard. 

"So  many  are  coming  in  unprepared,  either  with  out- 
fits, e.x|)erience.  or  common-sense.'*  says  he.  "They  ask 
me  what  the  price  of  flour  is  in  Dawson.  I  tel!  them  it 
has  no  price.  *  But  it  must  have  some  price,*  they  insist. 
*  It  has  no  price.  If  the  stores  will  sell  it  to  you,  you 
will  pay  $6  a  sack  ;  but  there  has  Ikcu  no  time  this  sum- 
mer when  a  man  could  get  a  complete  outfit  from  the 
stores.  Last  winter  flour  was  freighted  from  Forty-Mile 
and  sold  in  Dawson  for  $40  to  $60  a  sack.  Vou  will  see 
it  sell  this  winter  for  $100.* 

**The  boats  are  stuck  and  there  is  a  shortage  of  grub 
and  a  stampede  out  4>f  Dawson.  People  outside  talk  as 
if  the  steamers  on  this  river  run  on  a  scheilule ;  whereas 
they  are  liable  to  be  stuck  on  a  bar  and  not  get  off  at  all 
and  be  destroyed  by  the  ice  in  the  spring.  The  country 
is  not  and  never  has  been  well  supplied.  Mr.  Harper 
says  that  in  the  twenty-five  yeai"s  that  he  has  been  in  the 
Yukon  there  has  not  l>een  a  year  when  there  has  not 
been  a  shortage  of  something.  One  year  it  was  candles, 
and  the  men  had  to  sit  in  the  dark.     Another  year  some- 

163 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

thing  else.  This  year  it  is  flour.  The  only  permanent 
relief  is  a  railroad.  This  will  have  its  drawbacks,  for  we 
will  then  be  overrun  with  holx)es  and  silver  cranks.  At 
present  we  are  not  troubled  with  these  things,"  and  he 
smiled  faintly. 

**This  is  essentially  a  pn^spectors*  country ;  it  is  no 
place  for  the  majority  of  those  who  are  coming  in. 
They  are  carpenters,  clerks,  and  the  like.  They  may 
do  well»  but  only  for  a  while.  The  only  ones  calculated 
to  succeed  are  those  wh«>  understand  the  hardships  and 
have  grit  and  determination  besides.  Has  the  young 
man  who  is  with  vou  a  suthcient  outfit  ?'*  I  told  him 
he  had  not  ;  that  he  was  strong,  and  was  willing  to  take 
the  risk  of  getting  S4»melhing  to  d«»  and  buying  grub. 
**That  is  a  very  f«x»lish  thing  for  him  to  do/*  he  replied. 
**Many  people  are  short,  and  more  may  have  to  leave 
before  spring.  The  time  was  when  it  would  go  hartl 
with  the  man  wh«»  was  resp<»nsible  for  bringing  in  a  per- 
son like  that." 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  contemplate  what  our  condition 
may  be  before  spring.  There  need  be  no  starvation 
as  long  as  there  is  grub  in  camp.  There  may  be, 
and  probably  will  be,  serious  trouble.  Pitts,  therefore, 
seems  justified  in  saying  that  to  deliberately  come  un- 
prepared with  fo<xl  is  hardly  short  of  a  crime  against 
every  other  man  in  the  camp. 

The  Indians  here  rxrcupy  about  a  dozen  cabins,  and 
arc  of  true  North  American  Indian,  of  Tinneh,  or 
Athapaskan  stock.  Along  the  Yukon,  between  Fort 
Selkirk  and  the  Porcupine  River,  they  occupy  a  num- 
bcT  of  small  villages,  speak  one  language,  and  distin- 
guish themselves  as  "  Yukon  "  Indians.  They  are  a 
hunting  race,  subsisting  by  the  chase  and  fishing,  ex- 
changing their  furs,  moose  and  carib<»u  hides,  meat,  and 

164 


THE    -^MUSH"    ICE 

dried  fish,  for  tlour,  tea,  blankets,  dry-p^mnls,  bacon,  am- 
munition, etc.  Formeriy  the  fur  trade  was  larj^e,  but 
now  the  Indians  find  it  more  profitable  to  hunt  and  sell 
meat  to  the  miners. 

Next  morninjj,  <)ctol>er  2yi,  it  is  five  degrees  below 
zero  at  seven  o'clock,  by  the  government  thermometer — 
bitterly  cold,  and  a  thick  f^^g  envelo|)s  the  river,  Pitts 
advises  us  not  to  risk  starling  in  the  fog.  We  go  back  and 
stand  around  the  big  stove,  pawing  over  skins  and  furs. 
Pitts  wants  to  send  some  m«H»>c-hides  to  Daws<^n,  where 
they  are  in  great  demand  lt»r  moccasins,  mittens,  and 
gold -sacks.  After  picking  out  s*»me  he  hesitates,  then 
says,**Xo,  I  won't  send  them;  I  don't  think  you'll  reach 
Dawson." 

About  noon  the  fog.  which  results  from  the  o>ld  air 
meeting  the  warmer  water  «»f  the  river,  is  «lissipated  by 
the  heat  of  the  sun,  revealing  on  the  far  side  heavy  ice 
pouring  out  of  Pelly  and  filling  half  the  river. 

By  keeping  to  the  left  we  are  able  to  avoid  the  ice, 
which  is  in  lum{^  of  ever\-  form  from  soft  slush  to 
round,  hard  cakes  bigger  than  a  wagon-wheel.  The  ice 
forms  in  granules,  or  cr>-stals,  in  the  little  eddies  and 
still  places  behind  pebbles  and  bowlders  in  the  bottom 
of  the  streams.  When  a  OMisiderable  mass  hxs  formed 
it  detaches  itself  from  the  bottom,  rises  to  the  surface, 
and  floats  away.  If  the  mass  is  sufficiently  large,  it  may 
pick  up  pt>rtions  of  the  gravel-betl  and  carry  them  off. 
As  it  meets  other  mxsses,  ihey  crowd  t«>gether.  and  thus 
it  continues  to  grow,  the  lop,  exposed  to  the  air,  freezes 
hard,  and  a  small  ice-floe  has  begun  its  e.xistenc^.  Meet- 
ing others,  and  freezing  together,  the  fltn-  keeps  increas- 
ing in  size,  and  then  it  o.»ramences  to  rub  against  other 
floes  and  against  the  bank,  making  a  n»unded  disk,  hard 
on  top,  with  one  or  two  feel  of  loose  slush  below.     In  this 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMPICUE 

manner  the  **mush,"  "slush,"  or  "anchor"  ice,  as  it  is 
variously  calle<I.  forms  in  all  Xorthern  rivers.  But  the 
storv  that  in  Klondike  the  rivers  freeze  fmm  the  lx>t- 
torn  up,  instead  «»f  fmm  the  top  down  (!)ecause  the  ground 
is  colder  than  the  air),  is  a  mistake.  As  we  skirt  the  belt 
of  movinj^  ice  the  low  s/iitrr  of  the  Hoes  as  they  rub  to- 
gether makes  us  Ixrnd  to  the  oars  and  paddle. 


'f]:^^^mr 


■^^'P^.m 


■i^:\&i^-^ 


^:-  ,iii^..fca^  ^■..J^r^:^;^  11^'vt^'^'V:  i^ 


NEARIXr.    |)AW!»41N 


The  water  freezes  to  the  oars,  until  they  becf>me  un- 
manageable and  ajjain  and  again  we  have  to  sto[)  and 
pound  the  ice  off  with  an  axe.  Mittens  are  frozen  stiff, 
mustaches  a  mass  of  icicles,  and  no  m;ktter  how  hard  we 
work  we  can't  keep  warm.  The  current  is  swift.  We 
have  gone,  we  judge,  twenty  miles  when  the  setting  of 
the  sun  and  the  lowering  of  the  fog  warns  us  to  make 
camp.    Drawing  the  lK)at  close  up  to  the  shore,  and  secur- 

166 


DRIFT  IXC,    WITH    THE    ICE 

injj  the  lonjj  painter  to  a  tree,  we  set  up  our  tepee  on  a 
hij^h,  flat  Kink,  and  a  sna[)pin}^  blaze  of  dry  spruce  soon 
makes  us  f«»rjjet  our  iliseomfort.  We  eat  our  tiapjacks  and 
beans,  drink  our  tea,  anti  lie  !>ack  on  the  blankets  before 
turninjj  in.  The  ominous  s/t-sfi  of  the  ice  can  l>e  plain- 
ly heani — a  most  unwelcome  sound.  Suddenly  there  is 
a  lonjj,  dull  roar  under  the  bank.  Sprinj^injj  across  the 
fire,  we  jjain  the  edjje  oi  the  bank  just  as  a  floe  forty  feet 
lonjj  j;ocs  by,  scraping  the  l>oat.  Without  stoppinjj  to 
decide  on  the  manner  of  jjettinjj  down,  we  throw  our 
stuff  out  on  the  Kink,  antl  then  haul  the  l>oat  out,  safe 
from  harm.  Our  little  boat  seems  now,  from  the  tension 
of  our  minds,  more  than  ever  to  stand  between  us  and 
death.  Althoujjjh  the  boat  is  really  safe,  we  stand  for  a 
lon^  time  watchinjj  the  river.  The  stillness  is  broken 
<in!y  by  the  sound  of  the  ice,  and  the  northern  liijhts, 
flashing!:  mith  a  pale-jjreen  li^ht,  make  a  weird  impres- 
sion. We  have  abandonetl  all  hope  of  reachinjj  Dawson. 
There  are  hundreds  on  the  river  this  ni^ht  feelinjj  as 
we  do.  At  ten  t»VhH'k  the  thermometer,  onlv  si.x  feet 
from  the  fire,  but  shade*!  by  a  stick,  rejjisters  one  de- 
gree above  zero.  Before  an  outdoor  fire  one  >ide  of  a 
person  freezes  while  the  other  burns. 

Next  morninj:^  the  river  is  filled  with  ice,  pirating,  chaf- 
ing, grinding,  turning  against  the  shore  like  great  cart- 
wheels. We  lighten  the  boat  by  chopping  the  ice 'from 
her  sides  and  bottom,  and  reload.  When  the  sun  has 
dispelled  the  mist,  we  wait  for  an  opening  in  the  ice, 
push  the  bow  out.  and  the  ne.xt  moment  are  among  the 
fl<ies,  borne  helplessly  along  in  the  current.  Our  first 
care  is  t<»  keep  from  tx-ing  again  thrown  against  the 
bank,  which  has  a  stnmg  tendency  to  happen  ;  but  we 
soon  discover  that  the  double-ender  works  easily  among 
the  floes,  and  we  can  do  what  larger  boats  cannot — work 

167 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

our  way,  pushinjj  into  the  more  open  leads,  and  even  aid- 
ing the  current  with  the  oars.  A  vaj^ue  uneasiness  pos- 
sesses us  yet.  At  a  narrowinjj  of  the  river  the  ice  begins 
to  crowd  around  the  boat.  There  is  no  longer  a  bit  of  blue 
water  as  big  as  one's  hand  ;  weare  packed  s(»l id,  and  hardly 
moving.  We  can  only  sit  here  with  the  canvas  around 
us,  not  knowing  what  moment  the  ice  will  stop.  The 
bleak  mountains,  thinly  clatl  with  vegetation  ;  the  tall, 
dark  spruce,  now  whitened  by  the  condensation  of  mist ; 
the  dull,  gray  sky  ;  the  thick  mist  clinging  to  the  water  ; 
our  little  Ixxit  drifting  along — a  picture  of  loneliness. 

As  night  approaches  we  see  on  the  t)ank  a  boat,  with 
a  cache  of  g<M>ds  on  the  shore,  and  tw»>  men  hail  us  to 
stop  and  help  them  with  their  boat,  which  has  been 
badly  crushed  in  the  ice.  Landing  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below,  in  a  sort  of  eddy  where  the  ice  has  frozen  out 
thirty  feet,  we  chop  a  recess  just  large  enough  for  the 
boat,  and,  after  removing  the  goods  to  a  safe  place  on 
the  bank,  we  go  up  to  where  the  men  are,  and  find  them 
in  a  tent — three  men  in  all.  They  ask  us  if  we  have  seen 
a  raft  of  beef  above — which  we  had,  but  whether  of  beef 
we  could  not  tell,  as  we  passed  too  far  from  it.  They 
tell  us  that  the  raft  belongs  to  William  Perdue,  who 
brought  in  seventy  head  of  cattle  over  the  Dalton  trail, 
losing  twenty  on  the  way  in  the  quicksands,  but  butcher- 
ing fifty  just  below  Five-F'inger  Rapids.  One  of  their 
party  is  with  the  raft,  and  they  tell  of  a  serious  misad- 
venture of  theirs.  Near  Five-Finger  Rapids  they  saw  a 
white  steer  Icxjse  on  the  bank.  Thinking  it  was  one  that 
had  gone  astray  from  the  Dalton  trail  and  was  lost,  they 
shot  it  and  dressed  the  meat.  This  was  hardlv  finishctl 
when  a  man  who  proved  to  be  Perdue  came  along  in- 
quiring if  they  had  >een  a  white  steer  which  he  said  he 
was  depending  on  to  help  him  get  out  logs  for  a  raft. 

168 


FIND    A    RAFT    UF    MUTTON 

They  owned  to  havinj;  killfd  siuli  a  steer,  and,  as  it  was 
undoubtedly  the  one  that  belonjijed  to  Perchie,  there  was 
no  alternative  but  tn  express  rejjret  at  the  mistake  and 
pay  for  the  meat,  and,  further,  to  turn  in  and  help  him 
get  out  the  loj^s.  The  raft  havinjj^  been  completed  and 
loaded  with  meat,  they  left  one  of  their  number  with  it, 
and  came  on  until  the  ice  crushed  in  the  side  of  their 
boat. 

In  the  morninjT^,  however,  there  is  no  need  for  our  help, 
as  the  sht>re-ice  has  frozen  out  so  that  thev  can  reach 
the  damaged  part  and  repair  it.  We  have  to  chop  our 
own  boat  out  of  four  inches  of  ice,  and  go  on.  Before 
we  leave,  the  men  give  us  s<ime  advice  that  eventually 
gave  us  trouble,  through  no  fault  of  theirs.  They  tell  us 
to  look  out  for  a  beef -raft  ahead  of  us;  probably  hung 
upon  a  bar  —  in  fact,  a  party  coming  up  aft>ot  had  defi- 
nitely re|K>rtetl  that  to  l)e  the  case.  They  recommend  that 
when  we  meet  the  raft  we  bargain  for  a  quarter  of  meat, 
which  we  can  buy  at  about  one-half  or  one-third  its  worth 
in  Daw.son ;  and  that  if  the  men  have  deserted  the  raft,  to 
take  the  beef,  as  the  owners  naturally  will  In?  only  t<K>  glad 
to  have  it  delivered  to  them.  When  we  have  gone  some 
distance,  and  are  still,  as  we  judge,  about  twenty  miles 
from  White  River,  a  tlock  of  alx)Ut  hfty  ravens  are  seen 
flying  over  a  spot  in  the  mitldle  of  the  river,  and,  floating 
nearer,  we  perceive  a  raft  l<Klged  squarely  upon  the  head 
of  a  small  island  or  bar,  deserted.  Taking  this  for  the 
raft  referred  to  bv  the  men,  we  contrive  to  make  a  land- 
ing;  and  when  we  get  up  to  the  raft  we  disc»)ver  mutton 
instead  of  l)eef — af)out  one  hundred  carcasses,  covered 
with  the  pelts.  The  ravens  had  workeil  underneath,  and 
were  having  it  all  their  own  way.  Mutton  suiting  us  as 
well  as  beef,  we  throw  a  carcass  into  the  boat  and  go  on. 
Suon  after  that   we  see  two  men  struggling  along  on 

169 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  shore -ice,  each  drajjjjinjij  a  Kiadt-ti  sled.  In  answer 
to  our  hail  they  call  out,  "  There  is  no  jjriib  in  Dawson. 
If  you  haven't  an  outHt,  for  (»otl"s  sake  turn  riy;ht  back 
where  you  are !" 

Xight  fallinjj,  we  make  out  to  ^et  ashore  where  three 
prospectors  are  camped,  who  bc!onj;j  to  the  so-called 
•'Christy"  party,  who  came  over  the  Skajijway  trail.  With 
them,  as  we  saw  by  the  record  at  the  White  Horse,  was 
the  Xii^*  VifrJb  Times  correspondent.  Pellet ier.  The  rest 
of  the  party,  to  the  number  of  aNrnt  a  dozen,  includinj^ 
two  women,  at  last  account  were  on  an  island  alK)ve  in 
the  Yukon,  where  they  had  been  for  three  days,  since 
the  ice  tjejijan  to  run  hard,  the  women  wantinjj  to  jijo, 
but  the  prudent  leader,  with  a  wife  at  home,  not  consid- 
crinjj  it  advisable  in  the  state  of  the  river. 

We  are  more  than  glad  to  hear  this,  as  they  left  Ben- 
nett a  meek  ahead  of  us.  Again  ch<»pping  a  dock  for  the 
boat  in  the  shore -ice,  which  Is  widening  several  feet 
each  night,  we  make  camp  with  the  three  prospectors,  not 
putting  up  the  tent,  but  spreading  it  over  our  blankets. 
It  snowed  two  inches  during  the  night. 

Before  we  are  ready  to  start  the  ~ Christy"  boat  passes, 
and  the  prospectors  start  after  them.  By  keeping  in  the 
open  leads  and  rowing,  in  two  hours  we  overtake  them 
in  time  to  see  them  turn  in  and  land  on  the  right  bank. 
alongside  two  other  boats,  wh«>s<r  ctccupants  are  eating 
and  at  the  same  time  trying  with  poles  to  keep  the  ice- 
floes from  crushing  them.  Wc  haiL  and  a  man  calls  out 
that  the  ice  has  jammed  at  the  mouth  of  White  River,  just 
below.  If  that  is  the  case,  there  is  but  one  thing  for  us  to 
do,  and  that  we  must  do  as  (juick  as  wf  can.  We  gain  the 
shore-ice,  planning  to  drop  into  an  eddy,  in  a  bight  of 
the  shore-line  ;  but  we  are  caught  in  the  ice-floe,  miss  the 

'70 


MOUTH    OF    STEWART    RIVER 

eddy,  and  the  next  moment  the  lK>at  is  jjrindinjj  ajjainst 
the  face  of  the  ice,  which  by  the  falling  of  the  river  now 
stands  clear  of  the  water  by  several  inches.  A  particu- 
larly heavy  Hoe  makes  for  the  l>oat,  and  the  force  of  the 
impact  tilts  the  boat  until  the  outer  gunwale  is  even  with 
the  water,  when  the  tloe  sheers  off  just  when  we  think 
boat  and  jj^hkIs  are  jjone.  We  line  her  rapidly  down 
alon^;  the  shore-ice  until,  seeinjj  that  heroic  measures 
only  will  save  the  little  b<»at.  we  await  an  o|>eninjj  in  the 
ice,  turn  the  bow  out,  and  swing  clear  of  the  shore ;  and 
then,  after  a  hard  fight,  gain  the  free  ice  in  mid-river, 
where  we  res<ilve,  by  all  that  is  fit  to  swear  by,  that 
we  will  stay,  jam  or  no  jam.  There  are  no  signs  of 
a  jam,  and  we  keep  on  past  White  River.  Ten  miles 
farther,  at  Stewart  River,  and  on  the  right,  we  see  a  line 
of  boats  drawn  out.  S4)me  tents,  and  a  few  cabins,  and, 
starting  in  time,  we  work  in  and  make  a  landing  all 
right;  but  another  bi»at  ahead  of  us  fails  to  pursue  our 
tactics,  and  she  disappears  in  the  direction  of  Dawson. 

About  forty  boats  have  hauled  out  on  the  ice.  Stew- 
art River  is  the  destination  of  many  parties  who  intend 
to  haul  their  outfits  up  on  the  ice  and  prosjx^t  its  tribu- 
taries in  search  of  other  Bonanza  Creeks.  Others  have, 
stopped  from  fear  of  the  ice ;  and  still  others  by  reason 
of  the  disquieting  news,  brought  by  parlies  making  their 
way  out,  that  starvation  faces  the  camp  at  Dawson  and 
thieving  is  going  on,  two  men  already  having  been  shot 
for  breaking  into  caches. 

We  have  passed  or  overtaken  twenty-five  boats  jince 
leaving  Tagish  Lake. 

Growing  warmer :  twenty  degrees  above  zero  at  7  a.m.  ; 
forty  degrees  above  at  noon.  Start  at  2  p.m.  with  a 
light  wind  and  snow  in  our  faces. 

•7" 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

The  Yukon  just  below  the  mouth  of  the  Stewart  is  a 
maze  of  islands,  hut  the  channels  are  now  clearly  marked 
by  the  ice,  caught  on  the  heads  of  islands  and  sho;ils. 
We  have  gone  ab<»ut  five  miles,  and  in  thegrowinj:^  dark- 
ness it  becomes  dithcult  to  see.     A  mass  of  ice  Kxims  up 
straight  ahead,  and  we  keep  to  the  left,  when   we  sud- 
denly discover  we  are  going   wrong,  and  turn   the  b<»w 
for  the  right-hand  channel,  Hn»wn  throwing  his  whole 
strength   into  the  oars.     We  are  just  clearing  the  jam 
when  we  wedge  between   two  tloes.     The   ice   projects 
over,  and  destruction  is  inevitable.    Broadside  we  strike, 
and  then  the  cause  of  the  mishap  is  the  means  of  our 
salvation.     The  Hoe  on  the  lower  sitle  crushes,  l)ut  the 
resistance  is  enough   to  sheer  us  off,  and  we  skim  bv. 
Immediately  another  danger  confronts  us.    At  the  oppo- 
site bank, some  long  spruce-trees, undermined, have  fallen 
into  the  water.     The  current  sets  directly  towards  them. 
Here,  again,  fortune  is  with  us,  for  had  we  i)assed  clear 
of  the  island  we  shouM  inevitably  have  been  carrietl  in 
the  ice-pack  full  into  the  swee|H-rs  —  from  Sevlla  upon 
Charybdis  —  and  we  should  have  been  raked  fn^m  stem 
to  stem,  if  not  capsized.    As  it  is,  we  narrowlv  miss  them, 
and  are  glad   to  land  just  below,  at  a  huge  pile  of  drift- 
wood. 

We  have  hardly  set  the  tent  up  when  we  hear  a 
cry.  and,  looking  up,  see  the  ** Christy"  boat  drifting 
stern  foremost.  When  they  see  us  they  call  for  us  to 
take  a  line.  As  they  drop  down  a  rope  is  thrown  ashore 
and  we  make  it  fast.  It  seems  they  were  hugging  the 
shore,  as  usual,  and  went  fair  into  the  sweepers,  the  b<»at 
stern  on  at  the  time.  All  hands  jumi>ed  for  a  space 
among  the  packages  of  goods,  and  the  sweejx-r,  strik- 
ing the  steering-oar,  slid  up  and  swept  the  boat  clear. 
No  one  was  hurt  but  the  leader,  who  was  caught  by  a 

«72  ..^.-     " 


NEARIXO    DAWSON 

sweeper  and  rolled  over  once  or  twice,  and  is  lying  now, 
it  is  feared,  badly  hurt. 

We  subsequently  learn  that  this  is  a  very  bad  place, 
several  boats  havinjj  been  caught  under  the  treacherous 
tree-ends.  In  all  its  phases  the  Yukon  is  a  river  that 
commands  respect. 

Ne.xt  day  we  meet  more  refugees  dragging  sleds.  One 
party  of  three,  reluctant  to  take  to  sleds,  are  dragging 


KLiLiiUWniJMiRnmipippvfliiancn^^ 


TRTIXC  TO   LAND   AT   1>A\VS<>N 


a  Peterborough  canoe,  the  bow  of  which  is  sheathed  with 
tin  to  protect  it  from  the  ice.  We  ask  one  man  why  he 
didn't  wait  and  go  out  on  the  "ice,"  for  we  still  have 
a  notion  the  river  freezes  sm<K>th  like  a  mill-pond.  He 
answers  that  **a  man  dtxrsn't  eat  any  more  grub  on  the 
trail  than  when  sitting  down  waiting." 

Presently  a  white  sign  with  large  letters,  on  the  shore, 
warns  to  **  Keep  to  the  left  side  of  the  island,"  which  is 
all  one  can  do  now,  as  the  right-hand  channel  is  packed 

i7i 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

solid.  Then  we  pass  a  lar^e  lojj  buiUlini;,  formerly 
Ladue's  tradinjjj  -  |H>st,  opposite  the  narrow  valley  of 
Sixty-Mile  River.  In  reply  to  our  hail  a  man  calls  out, 
**  Fifty-five  miles  to  Dawson!  Keep  to  the  ri^ht,  and 
look  sharp,  or  you'll  be  carried  past  !'*  Thus  far,  di- 
rections volunteered  by  others  having;  invariably  been 
misleading,  we  straijjhtway  keep  to  the  left,  thereby  act- 
in  jjf,  as  subsecpient  events  prove,  unwisely. 

We  camp  «)n  the  left-hand  bank,  and  next  morninjj  ^n 
on.  Lonji^,  low,  wtxnled  islands  follow  one  another  in  quick 
succession.  We  are  repaid  once  for  the  extreme  lone- 
liness by  sight  of  a  wolf,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
trottinjj  towards  us  on  the  shore -ice,  which  is  several 
hundred  feet  wide.  After  making  sure  it  is  not  a  native 
dog,  we  level  with  the  30-30 ;  but  it  is  a  clean  miss,  and 
the  wolf  starts  on  the  jump  for  cover,  the  riHe  cracking 
every  six  jumps.  Then  he  turns  around  for  a  last  l<H»k, 
just  as  a  bullet  kicks  the  snow  up  beneath  him  ;  then  he 
is  gone  into  the  brush. 

Night  finds  us  still  inside  the  islands,  just  al>ove  a  sud- 
den bend  of  the  river  to  the  left.  Next  morning,  judg- 
ing that  we  have  only  about  ten  miles  to  go,  and  having 
found  some  dry  spruce  and  straight  white  birch,  we  re- 
solve to  stop  for  a  day  and  build  a  sled,  and  also  lighten 
the  bt^at,  which  is  so  weighted  with  ice  that  we  can  no 
longer  make  headway  or  work  our  way  among  the  Hoes. 
The  ice  is  four  inches  thick  on  the  sides  and  four  or  t\\c 
inches  thick  in  the  bottom.  Oars,  paddles,  gunwales, 
canvas,  boxes,  and  bags  are  incrusted  with  ice.  When 
we  begin  digging,  picks  and  all  sorts  of  things  that  we 
have  forgotten  about  come  to  light.  The  following 
morning  we  reload,  and,  settling  ourselves  for  what  we 
suppose  to  be  about  half  a  day's  work,  push  off  once 
more  in  the  face  01  a  cutting  north  wind,  striking  im- 

174 


"THIS    IS    DAWSOXr 

mediately  for  the  rij^ht-hand  shore,  which  was,  indeed, 
fortunate  for  us,  for  just  at  the  turn,  a  mile  from  «>ur 
campinjj- place,  we  see  on  the  bank  a  jjreat  numl)er  of 
boats,  tents,  and  people. 

**  How  far  is  it  to  Dawson  ?"  we  call  out. 

**This  is  Dawson!  If  you  don't  look  out  you  will  be 
carried  past  !**  We  dijj  our  paddles  into  the  ice,  and  in 
a  short  space  of  time  our  Niat  is  safe  behind  a  larj^er 
one.  It  is  the  ^^ist  of  Octolnr,  one  hundred  anil  ei^ht 
days  since  the  lixci/siors  arrival  at  San  Francisco,  and 
ninety-two  days  since  we  joined  the  Klondike  Stampede. 


EOAD-HOeSE,  NORTH   **f   III  SKKR  CRKEK 


CHAPTER  IX 


Klondike  "City" — Dawson— Fir>t  Impressions  of  the  Camp— The  Grub 

Scare,  and  Exodus 

MMEDIATP:LY  in  front  of  our  boat  we 
discover  the  tent  of  the  "  Christy  ** 
party,  in  charge  of  Pelletier  and  two 
sailors  —  a  chuckle -headed  Dutchman 
and  a  Swede— wh«^  gave  us  a  laugh  for 
hanging  up  around  the  corner;  but  they 
told  us  we  might  pile  our  goods  against 
the  side  of  their  tent  where  we  could  guard 
them  better,  and  then,  after  several  pairs  of 
willing  arms  heli)e<l  drag  our  little  boat  out  on  the  ice, 
we  began  to  inspect  our  new  surroundings.  Winter  had 
clearly  settled  down,  and  snow  covered  everything. 

The  bank,  which  was  quite  level  and  stiKnl  ab<^ut 
twenty  feet  above  the  river,  was  several  acres  in  extent 
and  occupied  by  thirty  or  forty  log-cabins  and  tents,  to- 
gether with  many  curious  little  b*ixes,  made  of  poles,  or 
two  halves  of  boats  placed  one  above  the  other,  and  set 
on  posts  higher  than  one's  head  and  reached  by  ladders. 
These  latter,  which  are  almost  as  numerous  as  the  cab- 
ins, are  "caches,"  in  which  gmnls  are  stored  out  of  reach 
of  dogs  and  water.  Behind  the  flat  the  bank  rises  steeply 
to  a  high  terrace,  and  on  the  left  this  suddenly  ends  and 
the  Klondike  River  breaks  through  from  the  eastward, 
and,  dividing  into  two  shallow  channels,  enters  the  Yu- 

176  . 


KLONDIKE    **CITY** 

kon  around  a  low  island  covered  with  small  cottonwoods. 
The  aforementioned  assemblage  of  dwellinj^s  was  not, 
as  we  had  been  led  at  first  to  suppose,  Daws^^n  proper, 
but  a  flourishinj;  suburb,  beariii)^  the  otlicial  name  of 
"Klondike  City."  This  "city"  was,  until  the  miners 
bringinjj  rafts  of  logs  down  the  Klondike  destroyed  their 


fjjirlffiitfrirtihir'f 


KU»M»iK.it  **city" — KLu.NUikh  Ki\*k  t.NUK^  ON  riiL  iin;nr 


tish-welrs,  the  seat  of  the  hx^al  Indians,  or  Trochutin^  as 
they  call  themselves.  But  whether  from  a  knowledj^e  of 
some  things  that  commonly  ap{)ertain  to  Indian  villages, 
or  whether  a  certain  half-rtsh-like  emblem  which  serves  as 
a  wind-vane  at  the  top  of  a  high  p<»le  on  the  river-bank, 
the  most  conspicuous  object  in  the  village,  is  thought  to 
resemble  a  certain  small  creature,  it  is  a  fact  that  it  is 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

considered  by  old-timers  the  height  of  affectation  to  s|)eak 
of  Dawson's  suburb  otherwise  than  as  **  Lousetown." 

Lousetown  is  still  the  residence  of  Indians,  but  only 
of  such  as  are  the  wives  of  oUl-iiniers,  whose  little  half- 
breed  children  run  about  in  furs,  and  whose  dou^s,  it)  the 
number  t»f  four  or  six,  lie  around  thed(H)rof  their  cabins, 
in  their  thick  fur  oblivious  to  the  cold. 

Dawson  proper  lies  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  mouth 
of  the  Kh>ndike,  upon  a  flat  alK)Ut  two  thousand  yards  in 
width,  extending  a  mile  and  a  half  al»>ng  the  Vukim,  and 
terminatinjjf  in  a  narrow  |X)int  at  the  base  of  a  mountain 
conspicuous  by  reason  of  a  lij^ht-j^ray  patch  of  "slide" 
upon  its  side  bearing  resemblance  to  a  dressed  m(H)se-hi(le 
in  shape  and  color,  which  has  given  to  it  the  name  of 
**  Mot>se-hide  "  or  "  Moose-skin  "  Mountain.  The  greater 
part  of  this  flat  is  nothing  more  than  a  swamp,  or  "  mus- 
keag,"  consisting  in  summer  of  oozy  muck,  water,  and 
** nigger-heads,**  with  a  few  stunted  spruce,  but  in  win- 
ter hard  and  dry. 

The  town  of  Dawson,  now  just  one  year  old,  contains 
about  three  hundred  cabins  and  other  buildings,  half  a 
dozen  of  which  stand  on  the  bank  of  the  Klondike.  Be- 
yond these,  and  facing  the  Yukon,  and  separated  from 
the  rest  <»f  the  flat  by  a  slough,  is  the  military  reserva- 
tion, with  the  barracks  of  the  mounted  f)olice.  The  bar- 
racks, where  there  are  now  alK)ut  thirty  constables  under 
command  of  Inspector  C.  Constantine,  are  a  group  of 
eight  or  ten  log  !)uildings  for  officers*  and  men's  (juartcrs, 
offices,  store-rooms,  post-office,  court-r<M)m,  etc.,  forming 
three  sides  of  a  s<|uare,  the  fourth  side,  facing  the  Yukon, 
being  at  present  enclosed  by  nothing  more  than  a  brush 
fence  four  feet  high,  with  a  gate,  l)eside  which  is  a  tall 
pole  floating  the  flag  of  (ireat  Britain. 

Beyond  the  reservation  is  a  town-site  staked  by  Arthur 

*7« 


THE    TOWN    OF    DAWSOX 

Harper  in  the  spring  of  1S97,  and  next  adjoining;  is  the 
original  town -site  of  J<»c  Lacliie,  staked  in  September, 
1896,  the  two  being  known  as  the  "  Harper  cV:  Ladue 
Town-site" — a  reetangle  of  over  one  hundred  and  sixty 
acres,  extending  from  river  t<»  hiil.  The  tirst  houses 
were  built  here,  and  it  is  still  the  centre  of  the  town, 


sutEirr  I?*   iMwsos 


which  was  surveyed  by  Mr.  Ogilvie  into  streets  running 
parallel  with  the  river,  intersecte<l  at  longer  intervals  by 
cross  streets.  First,  or  Main,  Street,  the  one  skirting  the 
river,  si.xty-six  feet  back  from  high-water,  is  practically 
the  only  one  used.  Along  this  street,  l>eginning  towards 
the  barracks,  the  buildings  consist,  hrst,  of  a  few  small 
earth-covered  log  dwellings ;  then  several  two-story  log 

•79 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

buildings  designated  "hotels,"  with  ronspicuous  signs 
in  front  iK^ariiig  siieh  names  as  "  KI<»iulike,"  "Dawson 
City,"  "Brewery,"  with  more  dwellings  betweeti  them 
and  caches  behiml ;  then  more  large  houses — the  "  M.  \' 
M."  saloon  and  dance- hall,  the  "(Ireen  Tree"  hotel, 
the  **  Pioneer  "  or  "  Mo<^se-horn  "  and  the  "Dominion" 
saloon,  the  **  Palace "  saloon  and  restaurant  and  the 
** Opera- House,"  built  tolerably  close  together,  the  space 
between  being  tilled  with  tents  and  smaller  cabins  used 
as  restaurants,  mining- brokers*  offices,  etc.  On  the 
river's  edge,  facing  this  irregular  row,  are  tents,  n)ugh 
buildings  hastily  constructed  out  of  slabs,  scows  with 
tents  built  over  them  and  warmetl  by  Yukon  stoves,  and 
used  as  offices  and  restaurants  or  residences,  etc.  —  a 
ragged,  motley  assemblage.  In  the  middle  of  the  road, 
and  evidently  built  there  iR-fore  the  town  was  surveyetl, 
stands  a  cabin  with  one  window,  the  Ladue  cabin,  the  first 
built  in  Dawson,  and  now  used  as  a  bakery,  when  there  is 
anything  to  bake.* 

Beyond  the  saloons  is  the  bUxk  of  the  Alaska  Com- 
mercial Company,  consisting  of  a  corner  store,  a  two- 
story  building,  forty  by  eighty  feet,  well  built  of  sawn 
logs,  beyond  which  are  three  long,  l«>w  warehouses  of 
galvanized  corrugated  iron,  all  on  Main  Street ;  and,  on  a 
side  street, another  warehouse  an<l  the  "mess-house" — 
a  commo<lious  two-story  log  dwelling  for  the  employes. 
The  ne.\t  blmk  is  that  of  the  North  American  Trans- 
portation and  Trading  Company,  comprising  a  store- 
house similar  to  that  of  the  other,  three  corrugated  iron 
warehouses,  and  a  dwelling-house.     Beyond  this  is  a  saw- 

•Thls  landmark  was  lorn  down  in  the  sf>rinj^  of  1S98.  This 
portion  of  town  between  the  "  M.  A:  .\I."  and  the  stores  was  siilv 
scqucnlly  much  altered,  and.  later,  two  de>tructive  fires  have  wiped 
it  out  of  existence,  thus  destroying  almost  the  last  of  the  pioneer 
buildings. 

180 


AN    ANIMATED    SCENE 

mill,  owned  by  Harner  cV:  Laduc  ;  then  more  cabins,  and 
at  the  farther  end,  half  a  niili*  from  the  stores,  the 
Catholic  church  and  St.  Mary's  Hospital,  in  charge  of 
Father  Judj;e,  of  the  Society  of  Jesuits,  and  the  Sisters 
of  St.  Ann. 

This,  in  brief,  was  the  construction  of  the  town  of  Daw- 
son on  October  j,  1*^97.  As  one  walked  for  the  rtrst  time 
down  the  snnM)thlv  l)eaten  street,  it  was  an  animated 
scene,  and  one  uj)on  whim  the  new-comer  jj^azed  with 
wonder.  The  Klondike  had  been  frozen  for  three  weeks. 
Snow  ankle-deep  lay  t»n  the  jir<»und  and  on  the  rtH)fs  of 
buildinji^s.  Smoke  curled  upwards  from  bits  of  stove- 
pipe in  the  r(K)fs  of  cabins  ami  tents.  The  saUxjns  and 
stores  and  bit  of  sidewalk  were  thronged  with  men.  more 
than  half  of  whom  were  stamped  as  late  arrivals  by 
their  clothes  and  manner.  The  new-comers  were  mostly 
dressed  in  Mackinaws  with  heavy  cloth  caps,  but  old- 
timers  were  marked  usually  by  coats  of  deer-skin,  or 
the  more  typical  (*arka  of  striped  or  navy-blue  twill,  with 
light  fur  caps  of  lyn.x,  sable,  mink,  or  l>eaver.  unlike  in 
shajK;  those  worn  anywhere  else,  and  bijjj  blanket-lined  or 
fur-lined  m<H)se-hide  mittens,  with  jj^auntlet  tops.  Men 
werecorhinjj  and  jjoing,  both  with  and  without  packs,  and 
now  and  then  a  woman,  in  deer-skin  coat  or  curiously 
fashioned  s<|uaw's  f^arka  of  mink  or  sijuirrel  skins — all 
trottinjj  or  walkinjj  with  an  enerjjjetic  stride,  probably 
begotten  no  less  of  the  sharp  temperature  than  of  the 
knowledge  that  the  darkness  of  Arctic  winter  was  fast 
settling  down.  Dogs,  both  native  and  **  outside,"  lay 
about  the  street  under  every  one's  feet,  sleeping — as  if  it 
was  furthest  from  their  minds  that  any  one  should  hurt 
them  —  or  else  in  strings  of  tw<»  to  ten  were  dragging 
prodigious  loads  of  bo.xesor  sacks  intended  for  the  mines 
or  for  fuel,  urged  on  by  energetic  dog-punchers. 

181 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Prices  at  which  j]:o<k1s  were  scllinjj  were  j:jathered  by 
inquiry  and  from  bits  of  [)ap<.-r  j)<»sttMl  on  the  sides  of 
saloons  or  the  bullctin-l>«»ard  al  the  Alaska  Commercial 
Company's  corner.  Entire  ouitiis  were  for  sale  at  $i 
|>er  pound,  and  not  waitinjj  l*n^  for  takers;  but  flour, 
the  article  of  which  there  was  the  jjreatest  shortaj;e, 
sold  on  the  street  for  from  $75  to  $120  per  sack  of  50 
pounds.  Joe  Brandt,  or  s*»me  other  e(|ually  reliable 
dog-driver,  is  to  start  for  Dyea  in  December  with  a  well- 
equippetl  dojr-team,  and  will  take  letters  at  $1  each,  and 
a  limited  numlKT  of  passenijers  at  from  $600  to  $1000, 
which  includes  the  pri\  i!e>;e  of  walkinjjj  Inrhind  the 
sleijjh  and  helping  to  make  camp;  a  woman,  who  must 
ride,  pays  $1500.  This  was  almost  as  cheap  as  to  buy 
and  et|uip  a  team.  Dojjs  were  almost  any  price  a 
man  askeil,  $300  Ikmu^  paid  for  j:«»od  native  dogs.  A 
common  Yukon  sleigh,  worth  $7  outside,  was  $40;  a 
**  basket"  sleigh,  $75.  Fur  r.»bc>,  without  which  it  was 
said  nt»  man  could  reach  Dyea,  were  from  $joo  to  $400 
each.  The  stores  were  full  of  men  warming  themselves 
by  the  stoves  and  ap|K-arinj;  to  have  nothinj^  to  do.  The 
st(x:k  of  gtxKls  was  of  cour>e  consitlerably  larger  than 
at  Selkirk,  but  there  were  whole  rows  of  empty  shelves 
where  gnx-eries  should  have  been.  The  Alaska  Com- 
mercial Company  was  selling  axe -handles  and  su^ar, 
that's  about  all.  The  X«»rth  American  Transportation 
Company  was  d«>in^  somewhat  l)etler.  The  warehouses, 
however.  l«K»ked  full,  and  men  in  f^arkas  with  doj^-teams 
were  sledding  stuff  away  from  fules  marked  with  their 
names;  but  every  one  else  was  j^niwlin^  and  cursinj^ 
this  or  that  man  whom  he  thoujrht  restK)nsible  for  the 
shortage,  or  was  anxiously  watching  devel(»pments.  It 
was  certain  that  Ix-tween  five  and  six  hundred  persons 
had  been  forced  down  river,  where  the  nearest  supply  of 

182 


DESTITUTION    AT    DAWSOX 

grub  was  said  to  be:  several  score  had  started  up  river 
in  canoes  or  along  the  shore-ice,  and  no  one  knew  how 
many  were  only  waiting  for  the  river  to  close  to  start 
up  river.  To  go  either  way  at  this  time,  the  old-timers 
regarded  as  certain  death,  by  the  ice  in  one  direction. 


—  -      ■^, 


HAULIXr,   WATUt — SCENE  ON   THE   M  \IN   >T«EET.   DAWSON 


from  cold  or  starvation  in  the  other,  unless  help  reached 
them  cm  the  trait 

The  immetliate  cause  of  this  indeed  serious  condition 
was,  as  before  stated,  the  failure  of  three  steamers,  loadetl 
n'ith  supplies  from  St.  Michael,  to  pass  the  flats  of  the  Yu- 
kon, 200  miles  and  more  below  Dawson.  But  that  was  not 
all.  The  strike  on  Rjnanza  Creek,  which  depopulated  Cir- 
cle City  and  Fi»rty-Mile,  (K'curred  so  late  in  the  fall  that 
steamers  a>uld  not  land  supplies  at  the  new  camp,  and 

183 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

during^  the  winter  which  followed  the  miners  liveil  from 
hand  to  mouth  on  what  was  hauled  by  dogs  over  the  ice, 
a  distance  respectively  of  220  and  55  miles.  The  spring 
found  1500  people  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  lx»ats  with 
an  eagerness  with  which  the  Vukt)n  was  by  no  means  un- 
acquainted. Then,  t<K>,  the  news  of  the  strike  had  gone 
outside  in  January  and  February,  was  common  property 
in  Juneau,  Seattle,Chicago,  and  San  Francisco  for  several 
months  before  the  Exiihior  and  rortiand  arrived  with 
the  first  gold  of  the  wash-up  and  tangible  evidence  of 
the  magnitude  of  the  strike,  and  before  the  world  at 
large  knew  of  even  the  existence  of  Klondike  a  stream 
of  people  were  pouring  over  the  passes,  and,  when  the 
river  opened  in  May.  they  l)ore  down  on  Dawson.  The 
influx  had  been  anticipated  by  the  two  companies  which 
supply  the  Yukon  by  way  i)f  St.  Michael,  and  every  effort 
was  made  to  push  supplies  to  the  new  camp.  Of  the 
Alaska  Commercial  Company's  steamers,  the  Inlla  made 
four  trips  to  Dawson,  the  Alice  three,  and  the  Mari^ant 
one.  Of  those  of  the  North  American  Trans(K»rtalion 
and  Trading  Company,  the  Portns  />*.  Wntrt-  delivered 
four  loads,  the  Jo /i/i  J.  I  Italy  two,  while  the  llaiuillon 
was  expected  on  her  maiden  tri{>.  By  the  middle  of 
September  about  Soo  tons  of  freight  had  been  landed  at 
Dawson, of  which  alH)ut  one-half  was  f^wxl  and  one-half 
general  merchandise,  an  amount  which,  although  with 
ncme  to  spare,  might  have  suthced  for  the  needs  of  the 
camp  until  the  next  spring  had  there  l)een  no  additions 
to  the  population.  Two  hundred  passengers  reache<l 
Dawson  on  the  first  steamers  ujvriver,  ami  a  few  went 
'out.  By  the  ist  of  August  no  fewer  than  a  thousand  had 
come  in  over  the  passes.  S>me  of  these  had  complete  out- 
fits^ but  the  greater  numlxT.  which  included  many  women 
and  some  children,  had  insuthcient  to  last  until  spring. 

184 


DISTRIRUTIXd    FOOD 

Captain  J.  E.  Hansen,  assistant  superintendent  of  the 
Alaska  Conunereial  C«»nipany,  arrived  from  below  on  the 
first  trip  of  the  Ihlh.  Captain  John  J.  Ilealy,  general 
manager,  as  well  as  a  member  of  the  firm  of  the  North 
American  Trans|>oriation  anil  Trading  Company,  ar- 
rived from  Forty -Mile  on  the  first  trip  of  the  Wearc, 
lioth  iR-gan  distrilmling  supplies.  Captain  Hansen  in  the 
old  Ladue  cabin.  Captain  Healy  on  a  rough  platform  in 
the  mud  of  Front  Street,  no  person,  however,  receiving 
more  than  two  weeks'  supply  at  a  time.  According  to 
custom,  lists  were  posted  and  orders  taken  for  a  year's 
supplies,  acc*ompanieil  by  a  deju^sit  of  about  half  the  cost. 
Such  individual  orders  ranged  from  $500  to  $10,000  each, 
and,  although  subject  to  the  uncertainty  of  delivery,  were 
termed  "guaranteed."  It  was  the  custom,  when  orders 
were  so  placed,  for  the  g<K>ds  as  they  arrived  to  be 
stacked  each  man's  in  a  pile  by  itself  in  the  warehouse, 
to  be  called  for  only  as  needetl  (the  gtKKls  being  consid- 
ered safer  there  than  in  their  own  caches),  until  snow- 
fall, when  they  were  more  casK-y -removed.  The  anxiety 
of  the  agents  and  those  who  had  placed  orders  increased 
as  they  saw  the  incoming  horde  of  new-comers  and  the 
water  in  the  Yukon  rapidly  falling.  Navigation  would 
close  by  the  ist  of  October.  When  the  middle  of  Sep- 
teml)er  came  and  the  river  was  still  falling.  Captain 
Hansen  went  d<»wn  on  the  Mari^arit  to  Fort  Yukon.  On 
the  26th  he  returne<l  by  i>oling  lx>at,  bringing  word  that 
the  Alici\  Hialw  and  Hamilton  were  unable  to  pass  the 
treacherous  shoals  in  that  part  of  the  river,  and  no 
more  boats  would  be  able  to  get  up.  The  news  was  car- 
ried to  the  gulches,  antl  huntlreds  of  men  came  to  town 
to  learn  if  it  were  true.  The  Alaska  Commercial  Com- 
pany posted  notice  that  they  could  till  all  orders, except 
a  slight  shortage  in  flour,  candles,  etc.     Captain  Healy, 

185 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

who  is  generally  thought  to  have  had  the  bulk  of  the  or- 
ders,  advised  his  customers  not  to  be  uneasy,  that  the 
boats  would  arrive.  Excited  men  gathered  in  groups  on 
the  streets  and  in  the  saloons,  and  with  gloomy  faces  dis- 
cussed the  situation.  Some  pro(>osed  seizing  the  ware- 
houses and  dividing  the  food  evenly  among  all  in  camp. 
The  police,  numbering  only  about   twenty   men,  under 


f/:      '■;  ^-*-v  t   ^%'  ^m'%*  fi,?-^^^  ''\.^^ZJ^^^ — ^^"--^''■^r?"  '  '  -*--^ 


•*t     '    *^- 


ALASKA  COMMKRCIAL  COM  PAW  S  STORF  AND  WARFHol>»KS,  WITH  THK 
KORTII  AMERICAN  TRAN:»lttRTA  I  ION  AM>  IRAlMNt.  COMI'ANVS  S|oKka» 
W   THE   DI>rANtE 

command  of  Sergeant-Major  Davis  (Captain  Constantine 
being  at  Forty-Mile),  were  placed  at  the  companies*  dis- 
posal. Captain  Hansen  accepted  the  otfer  and  barri- 
caded his  warehouse,  but  Captain  Healy  declined.  In 
this  crisis — namely, cm  the  jSth  of  Sepleml)er — the  ll'iim' 
arrived  with  125  tons  <»f  freight,  mostly  provisions;  also 
reporting  20  tons  taken  off  in  a  hold-up  by  the  miners 
at  Circle  City.     The  excitement   subsided  a   little  at 

186 


FEAR    OF    STARVATION 

the  ll\'tjrt'*s  unexpected  arrival,  and  hundreds  who  were 
starting  down-river  delayed  their  departure.  On  the  30th 
the  /)Mt  arrived  with  a  li^ht  cargo,  having  left  her  barge 
at  Fort  Yukon,  and  been  further  relieved  of  about  37  tons 
at  Circle  City.  Captain  Constantine  arrived  on  the  /><//</, 
and  on  the  same  day  the  following  notice  was  posted  : 

"The  undersij;ned,  officials  of  the  Canadian  Govcmmenl.  hav- 
ing carefully  Itxikcd  over  the  present  distrcssinj;  situation  in  re- 
gard to  the  supply  of  fcxxl  for  the  winter,  tinil  that  the  slock  on 
hand  is  not  sufficient  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  pcxjple  now  in  the 
district,  and  can  see  but  one  way  out  of  the  diinculty.  and  that  is 
an  immediate  move  down-river  of  all  those  who  are  now  unsu{> 
plied  to  Fort  Yukon,  where  there  is  a  larj^e  stock  of  provisions. 
In  a  few  days  the  river  will  be  closed,  and  the  move  must  be  made 
now.  if  at  all.  It  is  absolutely  haiuirdous  to  build  hopes  u\xyn 
the  arri\'a!  of  other  boats.  It  is  almost  t)eyond  a  possibility  that 
any  more  food  will  come  into  this  district.  For  those  who  have 
not  laid  in  a  winter's  supply  to  remain  here  longer  is  to  court 
death  from  starvation,  or  at  least  a  certainty  of  sickness  from 
scurvy  and  other  troubles.  Star\ation  now  stares  every  one  in 
the  face  who  is  hoping;  and  waitin^j;  for  outsi<Ie  relief.  Little 
effort  and  trivial  cost  will  place  them  in  comfort  and  safety  with- 
in a  few  days  at  Fort  Yukon,  or  at  other  points  below  where 
there  are  now  large  stocks  of  food. 

"C  Constantine, 
••Inspector  Northwestern  Mounted  Police. 

-D.W.Davis. 

"  Collector  of  Customs. 

-Thomas  Fawcktt. 

-Gold  Commissioner. 
-^i/Z^-wAe-rjo.  1897.- 

The  posting  of  the  notice  was  followed  by  speeches  by 
the  authorities  —  Sergeant  -  Major  Davis  and  Mr.  Faw- 
cett — urging  the  people  to  go.  Captain  Hansen  went 
about  the  street  speaking  in  twenty  places  to  as  many 

187 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

groups  of  men,  tcllinj^  tlicm,  *'(io!  ijo  ?  Flee  fur  your 
lives  I**  and  to  the  men  «>n  the  river-fn»nt,  "Do  yt)u  ex- 
pect to  catch  ijraylin^  all  winter?"  He  was  greatly  agi- 
tated, and  the  excitement  was  intense. 

A  meeting  of  the  miners  was  held,  and  the  views  of  the 
agents  of  the  companies  called  for.  Captain  Healy  alone 
vigorously  opposed  the  down -river  movement  and  re- 
fused to  attend,  but  sent  his  views  l)y  a  committeeman, 
who  delivered  them  to  the  meeting.  He  stated  that 
there  was  plenty  of  food  for  all  in  the  camp  imtil  the 
boats  got  up  in  the  spring.  If  they  felt  they  must  go, 
they  should  not  go  to  Fort  Yukon,  where  there  was  very 
little,  but  outsitle,  where  there  was  sure  to  be  enough. 
In  any  event,  there  wouUl  be  no  trouble  l>efore  spring; 
they  should  wait  and  see,  and  it  would  l>e  easier  and 
safer  to  go  out  later  than  to  go  to  Fort  Yukon  now.* 

•  Captain  Healy.  whose  altitude  towanis  the  miners  has  been 
mtsunderstootl  when  not  maliciously  misrcprtsi-ntcd.  sul).N<.-qiifni- 
\y  made  to  me  this  statement:  *•  I  sent  for  Captain  Hansen,  and 
1  said  to  him— for  he  was  very  well  supplied  with  Hour,  more 
than  he  needed;  he  had  a  qu.mtilv  in  the  warehouse,  and  the 
/>V//ii  brouj^ht  thirteen  hundre<l  gunnies  (a  j^unny  holds  two  fifty- 
pound  sacks  of  tlourj— I  s.ii<l  to  him  :  '  I  have  everMhinj^  but  Hour. 
If  you  will  let  me  have  Hour,  1  can  let  you  have  hacon.  sui^ar.  ev- 
erything else.  Now  I  have  one-year  orders  fnr  from  $300  to  $10.- 
000;  you  have  the  same.  .Mv  proj>osiii<)n  is  this,  to  till  ever>' 
man's  order  as  nearly  as  possible,  but  to  cut  them  down  from 
twelve  to  ci^hl  months.  That  will  last  them  till  June.  Hut  vou 
must  let  me  have  flour.  Ther^  will  In*  no  siarvaiiMU.  Sonie  mav 
go  hungry,  but  no  one  will  starve.  If  there /V  starvation,  it  will 
not  l>e  till  sprin;x-  It  is  not  a  (juesiion  of  quantity,  it  is  a  cjues- 
tion  of  distribution.  If  there  is  trouble,  as  you  sav  there  will  be. 
before  any  one  starves  those  who  have  none  will  take  it  from 
those  who  have.  My  pro|><isition  is  that  ytiu  let  me  have  flour 
enough  to  till  my  orders  and  that  we  f)oih  cut  down  our  <jrders 
from  twelve  months  to  ei^ht  :  for  if  there  is  u'oini;  to  Ik.*  trouble 
at  all.  it  is  better  that  wc  take  the  matter  into  our  own  hands 
right  now." " 

The  reply  of  Captain  Hansen  was,  according  to  Captain  Healy, 
••  I  must  611  my  orders." 

|8« 


PEOPLE    URGED   TO    LEAVE    DAWSOX* 

The  authorities  proposed  deportinjj  the  *' non  -  pro- 
ducers/' routulers,  and  cn>oks,  which  Captain  Hcaly 
again  emphatically  opposed. saying  that  the  cr(K)ks  sh<ndd 
be  kept  where  the  iM)lice  could  watch  them,  instead  of 
being  turned  Ux)se  in  a  defenceless  country  to  pillage 
and  rob. 

On  the  2oth  of  October  fifty  or  more  men  left  for 
Fort  Yukon  in  small  !x)ats  and  scows.  The  llittrt'  un- 
loaded with  all  haste  and  t«M»k  as  many  as  she  could  find 
accomm<Hlation  for,  charging  $50  for  passage.  On  the 
21st  of  Octol>er  the  /u/At  was  advertised  to  depart,  and 
passage  was  offered  free,  by  arrangement  with  the  au- 
thorities. At  ten  o'clock  that  morning  there  was  a  mass- 
meeting  in  front  of  the  Alaska  Commercial  Company's 
store;  addresses  were  made  urging  the  i)eople  to  go. 
For  all  who  wanted  to  go  on  the  />*<//</  an  agreement  had 
been  prepared  for  them  to  sign,  as  follows : 

•*  I).\wsoN,  NoRTiiwfiT  TFRRiroRv.  A/t'A.r  I,  1S97. 
**Thc  officials  of  the  Government  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada 
have  arranged  to  have  all  j>crsons  not  provided  with  food  for  the 
winter  carrie<l  free  of  charge  to  Fort  Yukon  oh  the  steamer  /u/At, 
on  the  following  conditions:  That  the  steamer  />W/a's  ofBcers  or 
owners  are  not  to  be  held  responsible  for  any  delays  or  possible 
non-arrival  at  destination  of  any  passenvjers  or  proj>erty  carried  ; 
that  all  persons  carried  agree  to  cut  woo<l.  or  in  any  other  manner 
aid  in  furthering  said  steamer's  voyaj^e.as  they  may  be  called  upon 
to  do  by  the  caf)lain :  that  the  undersigned  s|H?cially  agree  that 
if  the  ice  runs  S4>  thick  as  to  en<lanijer  the  steamer,  and  she  j;oes 
into  harbor  between  Dawson.  Northwest  Territory,  and  Fort  Yu- 
kon, Alaska,  they  will  leave  the  steamer  at  the  request  of  the 
master.  E,  D.  Dixon." 

One  hundred  and  sixty  persons  took  advantage  of  this 
offer  and  signed  the  paper,  and  received  food  for  five 
days. 

•«9 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Both  the  U't'tiri'  and  the  /?<7A7,  the  latter  after  a  most 
perilous   trip,  we   subsecjuently  learned,  reached  Circle 
City,  where  the  captains  refused  to  ^o  farther,  on  account 
of  the  dan^jers  of  the  ice.     H)iy:hty  of  the  Wuin's  passen- 
gers kept  on  in  small  boats,  but  were  caught  in  an  ice- 
jam,  and,  after  being  for  three  days  without  ftMxl,  reached 
Fort  Yukon  afoot.     Contrary  to  the  statements  of  the 
authorities  that  there  was  suthcient  food  at  Fort  Yukon, 
there  was  not;  and  if  all  whom  the  authorities  would 
have  persuaded  to  go  to  Fort  Yuk(^n  had  reached  there, 
the  condition  there  would  have  been  much  more  serious 
than  at  Dawson.     In  all  several  hundred  destitute  men 
reached  Fort  Yukon,  and  a  few  continued  on  to  the  next 
post.  Fort  Hamlin.     It  had  l)cen  represented  at  Dawson 
that  work  would  be  supplied  at  Fort  Yukon.    The  agents 
of  the  Alaska  Commercial  Company  were  doling  out  ten- 
day  outfits,  and  the  men  were  cutting  wood   for  pay, 
when  .seventy  or  eighty  of  them,  chafing  at  the  thought 
of  practically  losing  the  winter,  made  recjuest  for  a  seven- 
months'outfit  so  they  could  pros[>ect  neighl)oring  streams, 
and  were  alx»ut  to  enforce  their  demand.     Captain  P.  H. 
Ray  and  Lieutenant  Richardson,  United  States  Army, 
happened  to  be  at  Fort  Yukon  u{>on  a  military  recon- 
naissance, having  arrived  on    the   llcaly.      Lieutenant 
Richardson  was  at  the  Alaska  Commercial  Company's 
cache,  where  the  miners  were  assembled.     A  committee 
of  one  was  sent  by  the  miners  to  Captain  Ray,  to  learn,  as 
the  miners  express^fd  it,  whether  Captain  Ray  was  **re|>- 
resenting  a  government  that  would  care  for  its  i)eople 
in  need, or  represented  the  companies."     The  committee 
met  Captain  Ray  on  his  way  from  the  North  American 
Transportation   Company's  store  (which   is   two   miles 
from  the  other),  and  as  a  result  of  this  interview  Cap- 
tain Ray  returned,  gathered  a  posse,  and  started  back. 

190 


«t 


HOLD-UP"    AT    CIRCLE    CITY 


Lieutenant  Richardst^n  was  then  "holding  the  fort," 
with  a  revolver  in  each  hand.  Captain  Ray  was  met  part 
way  by  the  body  of  miners,  who  drew  a  dead-line  in  the 
snow  across  the  path  and  ordered  him  io  halt.  A  h'\^  fel- 
low belonging  to  the  |H>sse  (a  Canadian  from  Victoria, 
named  TtnJd)  stepped  across  the  line,  when  the  miners 
levelled  their  guns  and  the  man  stej)ped  back.  The  posse 
had  at  rtrst  been  ordered  to  arm,  but  the  order  hail  been 
rescinded,  so  they  had  n»>  alternative  but  to  agree  to  the 
miners'  terms.  A  committee  of  seven  was  ap|M)inted  to 
pass  u|)on  the  claims  of  destitutes.  Their  methtuls.  how- 
ever, proving  tin)  lax.  Captain  Ray  ttH)k  charge,  hoisted 
the  United  States  flag,  and  issued  seven-months'  outfits 
to  destitutes,  taking  their  notes  for  one  year,  the  gov- 
ernment guaranteeing  payment  to  the  companies.  Some 
went  prospecting,  others  ci>ntinued  to  chop  wovhI.  There 
may  have  been  some  rough  men  in  the  crowd,  and  it  has 
even  been  reported  that  they  were  simply  a  m»»b  trying 
to  UK)t  and  steal,  because  it  was  shown  that  one  of  the 
leaders  was  not  whi>llv  destitute;  but  it  was  certainlv 
not  true  of  them,  as  a  whole,  and  they  actetl  as  any 
other  men  would  have  actetl  under  the  same  circum- 
stances. 

The  **  hold-up  "  of  the  steamers  at  Circle  City  took 
place  as  follows  :  The  companies,  in  their  endeavors  to 
supply  Dawson,  had  left  Circle  City,  eighty-three  miles 
from  Fort  Yukon,  unsupplied.  The  miners,  incensed  at 
this  arbitrary  action  of  the  companies,  tix)k  an  inven- 
tory of  the  gooils  in  the  two  stores  and  a  census  of 
those  without  outfits,  made  a  list  of  supplies  needed, 
and  appointed  a  committee  to  demand  that  gCKKls 
as  per  list  be  left  off  the  next  steamer  that  arrived. 
When  the  JIVr/rt*  arrived,  the  committee,  armed  with 
Winchester  rifles,  demanded  a  certain  quantity  of  goods, 

»9« 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

and  they  were  taken  out  of  the  hold  and  placed  in  ware- 
house, the  miners  appointing  a  checker  on  the  steamer, 
another  at  the  warehouse,  and  j^uards  alon^  the  way, 
and,  further,  placed  guards  on  the  steamer  to  prevent 
disorder.  When  the  /)V/A/  arrived,  the  same  thinj;  was 
repeated.  The  miners  placed  their  orders  at  the  store 
in  the  usual  way,  paid  their  money,  and  received  their 
outfits  fn^m  the  agents  of  the  companies.  This,  Uh\ 
was  an  orderly  procedure,  although  it  was  n«»t  done 
without  a  vigorous  protest  from  Captain  Ray,  who  was 
on  the  BcUiiy  and  in  an  impassioned  speech  warned  the 
miners  that  it  was  tK)th  wrong  and  dangerous  to  thus 
hold  up  the  steamer;  first,  because  it  was  needed  worse 
at  Dawson  than  at  Circle  City,  ami,  second,  there  were, 
no  doubt,  rough  men  in  the  camp,  who,  when  they  .saw 
how  easy  it  was  to  hold  up  a  steamer  with  footl  consigned 
to  Dawson,  would  hold  up  the  s;ime  steamer  when  re- 
turning with  gold  consigned  to  Seattle. 

Of  all  who  started  for  Dawson  by  St.  Michael  after  the 
gold  arrived  outside,a  numl)er  estimated  at  iSoo, exactly 
43  reached  Dawson,  and  of  these  upwards  of  35,  having 
no  outfits,  were  compelled  to  return  on  the  /><//</  and 
Wi'arc.  The  rest  of  the  unft>rtunates,  such  as  reached 
St.  Michael,  were  scattered  at  various  j>oints  along  the 
Yukon,  with  both  the  regular  and  si)ecially  chartered 
steamers,  only  one  of  which  latter,  the  .SV.  Muhac!,  pur- 
chased at  St.  Michael  l)y  60  North  American  Trailing 
and  Transportation  Company's  passengers,  reached  even 
Circle  City.  The  majority,  numbering  alx>ut  500,  scttkil 
for  the  winter  at  Rampart  City,  near  Minook  Creek, 
about  1200  miles  from  St.  Michael. 

192 


ClI.XrTER  X 

<*h<wt<»!n];  a  Cabin -Site  —  TIu*   kivcr  C!.>ncs — \.irn>w  Fvcaj»cs  in  the 
Ice— A  Typical  Miner's  I'.il'iii — ll«»u^-Iluil«liiiij  in  Zero  Wt-.iihcr — 

How  C«4»l  will  it  l>c  ? — The  Bonanza  Tr;iil 

A*  inetTivtual  attcni)»t  to  rtiu!  the 
owiuT  of  the  mutton  raft  (\\v 
f«»iin»!  his  assistant  at  tlicXorlh 
AnuTiran  Transjxjrtalion  Company's 
store  s^'llinj;  the  larj^o  <>f  an  earlier 
anil  more  f<»rtunate  raft  at  $1.50  \H.'r 
pDiintl), and  an  ct|ually  fruitless  intiiu'ry  f<»r  letters  at  tlie 
|K>st-otfice,  loj^ether  with  sueh  impressions  of  the  new 
place  as  we  al)sorl>ed  on  the  way  thither,  on  the  nn>rn- 
injj  after  our  arrival  at  Klondike  City,  eomprisetl  our  ex- 
perience in  Dawson  for  several  <lays,  «lurin^  which  we 
jjave  ourselves  over  to  the  serious  business  of  tindini^ 
shelter  fi»r  the  winter.  Cabins  in  Dawson  were  w<»rth 
from  $500  t»>$iooo,and  wimhI  for  fuel — an  im|x»rtant  item 
— was  $30  to  $40  a  cord.  Even  ha<l  the  cost  lK*en  less,  we 
should  nt>t  have  thought  of  buyiny^  a  house,  when  timl>er 
with  which  we  could  build  one  of  our  ow  n  was  t»>  l»e  f<»und 
so  near  to  town  ;  but  my  com  pan  ion,  whose  resolution  thus 
far  had  been  to  die  s<H>ner  than  to  return  home,  certainly 
could  nt»t  remain  lonjjj  in  the  face  of  starvation.  In  this 
juncture,  Pelletier  proj)osed  that  we  build  toj^ether.  and 
next  morning  we  setoff  toI«M>k  for  a  cabin-site  up  a  beaten 
path  that  we  were  told  letl  to  the  mines,  it  l>einj;  agreed  in 

N  193 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  meantime  that  Brown  sh«niUl  remain  a  while  lonp^r, 
in  the  hoj>e  of  something  turninvj  up  to  relieve  his  dis- 
tressful conilition. 

The  Klondike  River  is  a  shallow,  very  swift  stream,  in 
summer  averaj^inv:  in  width  alK)Ut  f«>rty  yanls  ;  but  the 
valley  is  much  wider,  varying,  in  the  tirst  mile  frum  its 
mouth,  from  an  righth  to  a  third  «»f  a  mile,  then  incrf:is- 
ing  to  a  mile  in  width,  with  broad,  low  banks  and  numer- 


THF.    KLi»XlMkF.    IN    SI'MMFR,   L«m»KINO   XT   FROM    TIIK.    VVKoN 


ous  islands,  the  banks  rising  first  at  forty-five  degret-s, 
then  swinging  back  a  mile  or  more  to  the  crests  of  the 
hills  and  ridges,  the  bottoms  being  covered  densely  with 
spruces,  o>ttonwoods,  and  white  birches,  all  aU've  the 
level  being  ct>vereil  with  stunted  growth  of  spruce  and 
cottonwoods,  the  highest  peaks  being  nearly  or  quite 
bare.  Two  miles  fn»m  the  mouth  the  valley  is  cut  by  a 
V-shapetl  trench  from  the  southward — the  valley  of  l\*t- 
nanza  Creek.     The  trail,  worn  smooth  as  glass  by  many 


CHOOSING    A    CABIN    SITH 

sleds,  f«)lK>\vs  the  frozen  surface  of  the  river,  past  a  little 
nest  of  cabins  on  the  right  known  as  the  Portlaml  Ad- 
dition, past  a  small  steam  saw-mill  just  ready  for  winter 
work,  for  two  miles,  when  it  leaves  the  river  and  crosses 
the  level  tlat,  through  an  extensive  thicket  of  l>eautiful 
white  birches,  striking  at  a  distance  of  half  a  mile  llu' 
bed  of  the  creek,  a  shallow,  narrow  depression  wimling 
from  side  to  side  of  a  w<-K>ded  valley  five  to  eight  hun- 
dred feet  a  TOSS  and  then  continues  on  towards  the  heart 
of  the  mines,  a  distance  of  about  twelve  miles.  Where 
trail  and  creek  meet,  in  a  sheltered  s|)«»t  where  spruces 
and  birches  grew  thicker  than  usual,  wc  cho>c  the  site 
of  our  cabin. 

A  blaze  on  a  tree,  bearing  the  number  97  A,  written  in 
pencil,  and  the  fi>rmal  statement  that  one  Max  Newberry 
claimed  five  hundred  feet  for  hiining  purposes,  was  in- 
dication that,  as  claims  are  measuretl  on  this  creek,  we 
were  about  ninety-seven  claims,  of  aUmt  live  hundred 
feet  each.  bel«»w  the  original  discovery  claim. 

Returning  to  the  Yukon,  we  found  our  cache  rifleil  of 
the  mutt(ni,  with  the  knowledge,  is  was  frankly  admitle«l, 
of  the  Swede  and  Dutchman,  aided  and  al>ttted  by  a  man 
in  a  yellow  sheepskin  cap  living  in  a  l>oat  on  the  river- 
bank;  the  statement  being  solnrly  made  an<l  maintained 
that  the  owner  of  the  mutton-raft  had  been  making  in- 
quiries about  boats  with  mutton  al)oard,  and  they,  be- 
coming alarmed,  had  thrown  my  mutton  into  the  river! 
A  likely  story — disproved  sometime  after  by  the  t>wner 
himself,  whose  only  regret  was  that  we  hadn't  brought 
it  all  down,  and  by  the  confession  of  one  of  the  tw* 
custtnlians,  that  it  was  taken  by  our  friend  in  the  Iniat, 
who  had  lieen  left  in  a  pitiable  condition  by  his  part 
ners,  the  l)oat  and  contents  being  subseipienlly  lost  when 
the  river  closed. 

«9S 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Mr.  W.  F.  Courtney,  known  in  the  camp  as  the  "mutton 
man,"  charj^ctl, as  we  expected,  only  lialf  tlie  market  price 
— namely,  75  cents  per  |>oun(I,  but  tliis  act  of  a  man  faciii|4 
starvation  left  us,  with  the  winter  before  us,  witliout  fre>h 
meat  nor  a  <lollar  in  our  |)ockets  for  some  timt*  to  come 

Durinjj  the  next  three  or  four  ilays  we  sIctMed  our 
stuff  to  I^manza  Creek,  but  slept  each  nij^lit  in  the  tent 
by  the  river.  On  the  4th  of  Octol)er,  Simpson  and  his 
600  pounds  of  newspapers,  now  cofisiderably  out  of  date, 
arrived,  the  canvas  can<)e,  incrusted  with  ice,  beinv^ 
tovreil  behind  a  Yukon  boat.  A  few  more  l)oats  i^ot 
in,  tightin;.^  their  way  in  the  ice.  On  the  nij^ht  of  the 
6th  a  diversion  was  created  at  2  a.m.,  when  a  meat-raft 
went  bv,  the  men  callintr  loudlv  and  olTcriu^r  »»  th«>u- 
sand  d«»Ilars  for  a  b'ne,  but  they  went  on  in  the  dark- 
ness, to  certain  destruction,  it  seemed,  in  the  i^orije 
below  town.  Next  day  two  men,  arrivinj^  on  f«H)t  froni 
above,  reporteil  at  the  l)arracks  that  they  had  j,x«»"<-* 
ashore  from  the  raft  with  the  line  to  "snub"  to  a  tree, 
and  the  line  had  parted.  On  the  7th,  in  front  of  Daw- 
son, where  the  river  is  narrowest,  the  ice  bei^an  to  jam. 
The  fl<»es  piletl  up,  and  the  water  backed  behind  as  far 
as  Klondike  Citv  ;  then  it  l>roke  loose  and  continued 
to  run  a^in  f«>r  several  hours,  when  it  jammed  ai^ain 
and  did  not  move.  The  Yukon  was  closed,  but  remained 
open  bel<»w  the  jam  all  winter.  iJlocks  of  \rc  lay  at  all 
angles,  with  b*»ats  crushed,  sitleways  and  endways,  use- 
less except  for  lumlx!r.  The  last  men  in  had  the  time 
of  their  lives.  Messrs.  Coe  and  Racer,  of  Seattle,  pickctl 
up  at  Sixty-Mile  |)ost  three  «»thers,  Hkuk,  Atkinstui,  and 
Adams  whose  party  had  divided  there,  fcarintj  the  ice. 
All  went  well  until  they  appniached  Klondike  City.  The 
river  had  just  jammed  for  the  second  time.  Black  and 
Atkins<fn  mcnt  ashore  on  a  shelf  of  shore-ice  on  the  right 

196 


A    TYPICAL    MINKRS    CAIUN 

han<K  at  the  f«K»i  of  a  precipitous  bank.  P.lack  rtarlud 
the  cabins,  hut  the  ri>:iijx  water  «lrove  Atkinson  tt)  the 
hank,  where  he  manai^etl  t«»  clinyj,  with  one  f«K>t  in  a 
small  spruce,  until  twenty  men  with  ro|>cs  hauled  him 
up.  The  lK»at  went  «»n,  very  slowly  now.  It  was  in  the 
small  hours  of  ni^hl  when  they  reache*!  I)aws<»n,  ami 
slop|)c-tl.  They  calletl  out  their  names,  hut  no  help 
couhl  reach  them  until  tlaylij^ht,  when  the  |H»lice  put 
planks  over  the  ice  anti  !)r»»uy;ht  them  a>hore.  This 
was  but  one  of  many  miraculous  esc-ai>cs.  Near  Little 
Salmon,  the  lM)ats  of  incoming  p>vernment  orticials  were 
caujjht ;  three  l)oats  went  under  the  ice,  and  one  man 
was  drowned,  the  rest  jjettin^  ashore  on  snow-shoes. 
The  meat-raft,  which  was  William  IVrdue's,  turned  up 
safe,  fourteen  miles  Inrlow,  and  he  lost  only  the  cost  of 
frei^htinj;  (25  cents  a  j^»untl).  It  was  said  that  an  arm 
j^raspin;^  an  oar  was  seen  j^oinjjf  slowly  by  in  the  ice,  but 
it  was  not  {generally  iR-lievetl. 

The  Yukon  miner's  cabin  is  from  about  10  by  12  ft. 
s<piare,  to  14  by  iS  ft.,  averajjin^  perhai>s  12  by  14  feet. 
The  lojjs  are  eij^ht  or  nine  inches  thick,  and  the  sides 
are  nine  or  ten  \**\i>  hij;h,  which,  with  six  inches*  eleva- 
tion for  the  tl«Hir,  allows  ample  head-HMim.  The  roof  i.; 
rather  tlat,  a  raise  of  more  than  two  feet  at  the  rid^e 
l>einjj  uncommon,  and  it  extends  four  to  six  feet  in  front 
and  is  fretpiently  encl»»sed  for  a  st«»re-riHim.  The  nwjf  is 
made  of  small  i>oles, o»vered  first  with  moss,  and  then,  to 
a  thickness  of  six  inches  or  more,  with  dirt,  which  in  time 
is  covered  with  weetis  and  jjras.s,  causinjj  some  one  to 
»»bserve  that  one  of  the  duties  of  a  householder  in  the 
Yukon  was  mowinjj  the  hay  on  his  house-top!  There  is 
one  door  in  front,  and  at  least  one  window  on  the  sunny 
side,  fitted  whenever  p^>s>ible  with  a  s;i>h  i»f  fr<»m  four  to 
six  panes,  the  better  cabins  havinj^  double  sashes,  to  pre- 

t*j7 


THK    KLONDIKE    STAMPKDi: 

vent  frt>stinjr.  As  a  sash,  whenever  it  is  to  Ik.'  ha<l  at  all, 
is  worth  $Jo,  nianv  cabins  have  onlv  a  white  tl«»ur-s;iek 
naileil  over  the  «)peninj;.  A  much  belter  window,  and  a 
really  decorative  one,  is  made  of  a  dozen  or  more  white 
j:jinji^er-ale  l)ottles,  set  vertically  in  an  oiKtiinj^  the  thick- 
ness of  a  lojir.  The  d«M»r  is  cither  of  lumber  or  |m»1cs  hewn 
flat  on  to[>.  Many  cabins,  especially  on  new  creeks,  dis- 
pense with  a  floor.  The  cabin  is  warmed  with  an  ordinary 
sheet-iron  Yukon  stove,  set  on  four  |x»sts.  the  stovc-pi|K' 
passinj^  thn>uj4h  a  s(|uare  oil -can  in  the  r<M»f.  the  sjKice 
around  the  pipe  beinj;  usually  filled  in  with  clay.  The 
lojjs  are  chinked  with  moss,  whii  h  is  usually  laid  ou  as  the 
walls  '^i>  up.  Pro[)erly  chinked  and  nntfcd,  the  tem{>era- 
ture  even  in  the  coldest  weather  can  be  raised  to  an  un- 
c«>mfortable  pitch.  To  avoid  ill  efl^ects  from  overhealin;j: 
and  likewise  poor  ventilation, a  small  b<»x  is  placet!  in  the 
nK»f,  with  a  d<M)r  which  can  Ix*  opened  and  cU»s<'d.  S»me 
of  the  camps  have  a  "  Rus>ian  furnace  ** — an  oven  made 
of  three  thick  sides  of  baked  clay  covered  with  a  lar;.je 
sheet  of  iron,  the  oj)en  end  beinij  fitted  with  a  slidin^i  iron 
tloor.  A  Yukon  stove,  made  by  a  tinsmith  in  DawxMi, 
with  a  drum  for  l)akin«j^  and  three  joints  of  pi|K\  ci»ts 
$65.     An  oj>en  rtreplace  is  no  use  in  the  coldest  weather. 

The  bunks  are  simply  roui^h  platforms  wide  enouj^h 
for  two  persons,  usually  built  of  poles  and  l>oards.  and 
covered  with  spruce  Ixjui^hs,  ii|)on  which  are  spread  the 
blankets  and  rt»l>es,  a  flour-sack  containinj^  socks  or  m«»c- 
casins  often  servinj^  for  a  pillow.  If  there  is  a  woman 
about,  a  bit  of  curtain  shows  at  the  wintluw,  and  the  walU 
and  ceilinj^  are  often  covered  with  cheap  calico,  but  even 
with  these  touches  the  air  is  far  from  l)einj;  nnc  of  luxury. 

The  miner's  lij^ht  is  preeminently  the  candle,  which  is 
used  in  a  s|K-cial  candlestick  of  steel,  with  a  |>»int  to 
thrust  into  the  face  of  a  bank  of  earth,  and  a  hook  for 

i98 


•••  •      *  ,  •    * 


CABIX-BUILDIXC;    BKI.OW     Z  K  R  ( » 

han^J^Js  ^**  ^  "**•'  '"  ^^'*-*  wall.  Cantllfs  have  always  been 
so  scarce  in  the  Yukon,  and  ordinary  lamps  and  oil  even 
more  so,  that  nearly  every  cabin  has  what  is  calk'd  a 
"bitch" — a  milk  or  meat  can,  with  a  I(M)sc  wick  at  one 
side,  burninjj  bacon  jjrease.  The  original  "bitch"  was  a 
piece  of  fat  bacon  stuck  into  the  split  end  of  a  stick. 

We  built  our  cabin  fourteen  by  sixteen  feet.  Rut 
though  we  did  not  have  to  j;o  over  one  huntlred  feet  for 
a  single  stick  of  timber,  we  did  not  fully  realize,  w  hen  we 
began,  the  actual  suffering  of  handling  logs  in  a  tem|>ern- 
ture  already  much  below  zero  and  steadily  falling.  Fkown 
reconsideretl  his  intention  of  leaving,  and  stayetl  on,  but 
even  with  his  assistance,  after  three  weeks  of  brutal 
labor,  we  still  had  no  fl<x>r,  no  dirt  on  the  r<K)f,  and 
neither  d«>or  nor  window  nor  furniture.  The  walls, 
too,  were  rather  low  (for  a  very  "swell"  cabin),  a  de- 
ficiency which  my  partner  Pclletier,  who  is  a  small 
man,  usetl  to  explain  by  saying  that  we  put  the  uh)(  on 
as  soon  as  the  cabin  reached  a  height  where  he  could 
stand  under  the  side  wall  and  I  could  stand  under  the 
middle.  We  built  a  window  <>f  celluloid  plates  that  was 
the  wonder  of  the  gulch,  a  door  of  goodsd)oxes,  a  table 
of  the  same,  three  rough  stools  and  two  bunks  in  the 
end,  and  we  covered  half  of  the  extension  roof,  enclos- 
ing it  with  pedes,  an  addition,  ht»wever,  more  ornamental 
than  useful 

During  all  this  time  we  lived  in  the  tent,  which  was 
strung  by  a  rope  between  two  trees.  The  thermometer 
fell  to  39°  below  zen»,  but  it  was  astoniNhing  how  warm 
a  stove  made  the  tent ;  as  soon  as  the  fire  went  down, 
however.  It  was  as  coltl  as  out-of-doors.  Between  us 
we  had  thirteen  pairs  ai  blankets,  thin  and  thick,  and  in 
the  midst  of  these  we  slept ;  even  then,  with  all  our 
clothes  on  and  lying  close  together,  we  were  never  really 

30I 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

warm  ;  but  in  time  we  jj^rcw  acrii>tnmc(l  to  what  we 
could  not  av(»i(l.  A  j^rcat  annoyance  was  caused  !>v^lhe 
steam  of  our  l)reath  and  from  our  Ixnlies  contleiisinij  anti 
freezing,  until  the  white  frost  alxuit  our  heads  li>*>ketl 
like  that  around  a  bear's  de'u  in  winter.  The  breakfast 
fire  w«)uld  cjuickly  melt  the  frost;  but  we  never  tlrietl 
out.  Each  succeeiling  nij^ht  there  was  more  fro>t  ami 
more  water.  The  steam  from  the  kettles  comlensei!  and 
froze  at  the  top  of  the  tent»  returninj^  in  streams  <»f  ice 
down  the  in>ide  of  the  tent.  This  disajxreea!)le  feature 
is  ol)served  al-s«»  in  new  cabins  <»f  j^reen  loj^s.  or  when  the 
nK)f  is  thin  and  the  snow  melts  throuj^h.  These  "'glac- 
iers/* as  the  miners  call  them,  often  till  one  corner  or 
half  the  sitle  of  a  cabin,  even  when  the  air  inside  is,  from 
a  Yukon  stand-fK»int,  comfortable. 

In  the  warme>t  Yukon  cabin  nails  and  other  iron-work 
that  e.xtend  through  from  outside  are  while  with  fr«>>i. 
no  matter  how  hot  the  tire  in  the  stove.  ()ul-d<M»rs  fro>t 
collects  on  eyelasho.  eyebrows,  mustache,  antl  iK'artl.  pro- 
ducing a  change  in  well-known  features  that  is  startling. 
Hut  it  causes  no  harm — «>!dy  inconvenience,  which  can- 
not be  wholly  avoi<led  bv  anv  amount  <»f  mutllinir  up. 
For  that  rea-s<»n  most  of  the  old-timers  are  smoolh- 
shavert.  All  the  new-comers  had  l>een  cultivating  lux- 
uriant Inrards  f.>r  three  months,  in  the  belief  that  they 
would  afford  protection  to  the  face,  but  the  first  cold 
weather  showed  ihem  that  their  additional  warmth  diti 
not  comf)ensate  for  their  inconvenience  as  frost-gatherers. 

One  day  while  we  were  <ligging  in  the  snow  for  m«»?v<, 
alongside  the  trail,  a  man  with  four  <logs  stop|>ctl  for  a 
chat,  by  a  fire  we  had  built  to  warm  our  hands  and  shov- 
els. We  knew  him  to  be  an  oKl-timer  by  his  blue  drill 
parka  and  mukluks.  We  remarket!  that  it  w.is  pretty 
cold,     "  Oh  no,"  said  he,  **  it  isn't  cold  yet.     They  were 

302     ■   ■  . 


COLD  — COLDER  — COLDEST 

saying  down  -  town  it  was  35^  below  zero,  hut  it  isn't 
more  than  22  or  23."  \Vc  told  him  we  were  living  in 
a  tent.  "That's  right.  Slay  where  you  are;  when  it 
gets  c«>ld  you  will  be  ready  to  move  into  the  cabin." 


f^'t  -..r^; 


f 


\   Ll  MBKR   TEAM  UX    ltU.\ANZ.\  CRfc£K 


It  grew  steadily  colder — no  thermometer  was  needed 
to  show  that.  Our  own  was  a  cheap  affair  of  the  familiar 
summer  veranda  stvie,  but  it  had  been  con>cientiouslv 
graded  to  register  60  below  zero,  although  mercury 
freezes  at  —40''.  It  kept  shortening  until  it  showecl 
—  50%  but  when  it  sutldenly  landed  in  the  bulb  at, 
at  least,  —65°  we  threw  the  thing  away.  Old-timers 
measure  the  temperature  by  the  following  system  (ob- 
tained by  comparison  with  the  standard  sj»irit  ther- 
mometer):  Mercury  freezes  at  —40"  ;  coal-oil  (kerosene) 

»3 


THE    KLC)M)IKK    STAMIMCDI-: 

frcezesal  fr«»m  —35  to  —  55'',  atconlinj^  tonrrade  ;  "fiain- 
killer"  freezes  at  — 72  :  "St.  Jamb's  ()il"  freezes  at 
—  75"*;  best  Hu<Is«»n*s  Ikiy  rum  freezes  at  —  So  .  This 
last  lemf<Talurc  was  authoritatively  recorded  at  Fort 
Reliance,  >4X  miles  bel<j\v  I)aws<»n;*  but  sueh  low  tein- 
pcratarrs  vere  rarely  observed  and  <lid  not  last  more 
than  a  few  days  at  a  lime,  <hirinj;  whith  the  old-timer 
simply  stayetl  in-il<tors  and  kept  warm.  No  do^-frei^^hter 
travels  when  the  mercury,  which  he  carries  in  a  small 
l>Htle  tied  to  the  sled,  j^oes  hard  like  lead.  We  obtaine<l 
water  thr«<2j:h  a  hole  in  the  ice  of  the  creek,  but  by  the 
first  of  I>ocenibcr,  when  that  left  us,  we  wouM  j^ather  a 
sackful  iA  kre  and  melt  it  in  a  larije  tin  can  which  was 
omtinuaJIy  kept  on  the  stove  for  that  purpose.  liacon 
we  ch<»f»prd  f'ff  with  an  a.xe;  salt  was  as  hard  as  a  j;rind- 
stone, and  the  ice  ran^  like  Hint- vjlass. 

Our  cal^n,  beinij  near  the  trail,  proved  conveniently 
situatevi  f«*r  studying  the  ty{>es  of  jK'opIc ;  it  lnvame  a 
regular  st'^^^ipinjj-idacc  for  hand-warminjj^,  or  for  a  drink 
of  water, '"T  as  a  place  of  de|>o:*it  when  a  sled  broke  down. 
It  was  a  di%-ersion  to  watch  the  throng  of  men  anti  <logs. 

Fn>ni  half-j»ast  nine  in  the  morning  until  the  pink- 
tinged  IJgbl  in  the  sky  <lied  out  l)ehintl  the  s«»uthwe>tern 
h ills  daring  the  five  or  si.x  hours  »»f  diffused  light  that 
constituted  day,  the  trail  before  our  d<M)r  was  a  moving 
panorama  <4  life,  color,  and  sound.  The  trees  lx:nt  un- 
der their  incTcasing  weight  of  snow,  which  there  was  not 
a  breath  «»f  air  to  di>l<Klge.  The  sharp  "JA///.V //.'**  tif  the 
dog  -  freighter,  mingled  with  other  language  not  fit  to 
hear,  would  be  echoeil  by  the  dismal  howl  of  a  jK>or 
^Malamut"  dog  refusing  to  malisU,     Now  a  bunch  of 


•  Umii^J Siatr*  (ltu>ft*i;icixl Siinuy,  iS«>9,**  Maps  ami  Descriptions 
of  Routes  o<  Exploration  in  Alaska."  p.  134. 

204 


THE    BONANZA    TRAIL 

stampcMlcrs,  with  packs  on  ihtir  backs,  would  swin^alonyf 
at  a  half-tmt,  tnuiMd  for  the  srcne  of  the  latest-reported 
strike.  Xow  a  man  with  a  sled-ropc  around  his  patient 
neck,  and  *' jjec-ixde"  in  hand,  drajj^^injj  an  exceedingly 
heavy  load  of  supplies  to  his  camp,  sometimes  with  one 
do«j,  just  in  front  of  him,  pullinj^  for  every  |)ound  in  him. 
Now  a  string  of  five  heavy-set  **  Malamuts,"  drawinjj 
two  sleds  loaded  hiijh  with  l>oxes  and  s;icks,  with  a  strap- 
pinjj  younjj  man  with  a  sm«M»th,  red  face,  a  sable-skin  cap, 
stri|)ed  drill  /rir/v7,  /////////X-.c,  and  nnHJse-skin  mittens. 
The  dogs  are  down  in  the  traces,  every   mother's  son 


\^  ^ 


V 


PKospECToE,  wirii  <H  irir  .\.m>  M.ri»,  in  fri»nt  mf  olr  cabin 


pulling  his  three  hundred  pounds,  the  driver  helping 
them  over  the  little  hills  with  a  quick  step  and  a  cut  to 
his  words  as  he  «»rders  his  team,  that  mark  him  as  the 
trained  Yukon  dt>g  -  puncher,  g<M>d  for  his  sixty  miles 
a  day  on  a  gtHxl  trail.  Scarcely  have  the  freight-sleds 
,  305 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

passed  when  there  is  a  tinkle  of  little  bells,  and  down  the 
trail  comes  seven  "Malamuts"  with  heads  up  and  tails 
curle<l,  dancing  alon^  with  a  basket -skit^h,  in    whith. 


ox  TIIK  BONANZA  TRAIL 


bundled  almost  out  of  sijjht  in  lynx  mlK-s  an<I  f^trLt 
hoo<ls,  area  woman  antl  a  little  rhlKl.  A  niiildlc-ai^ctl.  tall 
man.  in  spotte<l  deer-skin  coat,  white  deer-skin  luuLiuLs, 
and  fur-trimmetl  mittens,  nms  alonj^  with  his  hands  «ni 
the  sleigh  handles,  shoutings  a  word  <»f  encouragement  t<» 
his  well-trained  dogs — an  outfit  from  Eldorado.     Xow  a 


THE    BONANZA    TRAIL 

train  of  mixed  dogs^St.  Bernards,  spaniels,  and  Xew- 
fuundlands — goes  by. 

All  day  long  they  eome  and  go,  bright  spots  of  life  and 
color,  the  more  grateful  in  contrast  with  its  sombre  set- 
ting of  twilight,  snow,  anil  dark  evergreen-trees.  After 
the  glow  «>f  the  setting  sun  has  died  away,  ami  the  night 
wood  has  been  stacked  beside  the  stove,  antl  the  birch- 
bark  kindling  is  ready  for  the  morning's  lire,  and  llie 
candle  burns  low,  the  intense  stillness  of  the  winter 
forest  is  broken  onlv  bv  the  tK'casional  distant  wail  of  a 
dog,  t>r  the  ^\Ma/is/t"  of  st)me  belated  driver.  Even  that 
ceases,  and  there  is  no  sound  but  the  crackling  «»f  the 
fire  in  the  stove,  or  a  mouse  gnawing  in  a  dark  corner  of 
the  cabin.  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  sleep.  Fortu- 
nately, it  is  little  trouble  to  do  that.  All  whi>  speak  of  it 
confess  that  they  never  slept  so  long  or  so  st>undly  in 
their  lives. 


rKKlr.HTBR 


CHAPTER   XI 


Dogs  and  IXig- Jrivirg — The  Typical  **  Malaniut " — A  Doj;  team  Kqui|>- 
ment — The  Finest  Ikig  team  in  the  Klondike 

T^X  every  part  o(  the  world  the  tloj^ 
is  the  ct>inpanion  aiul  helper  of 
man,  but  nowhere  is  he  so  es- 
sentially a  part  of  the  life  of  the 
people  as  in  the  northern  part 
of  this  continent,  from  (»reen- 
land  to  Behrinjjj  Sea.  The  rein- 
deer, as  in  Lapland  and  Sil)eria, 
may  in  time  supplant  him  in  the  Yukon,  and  horses  t»> 
some  extent  do  now  perform  the  heavier  work  ;  but  the 
dog  will  hold  his  place  as  the  inseparable  companion  of 
the  miner,  hunter,  and  traveller  for  a  lonj^  time  to  come. 
The  best  type  of  the  Yukon  dog  is  the  true  Eskimo, 
known  by  the  miners  as  **Malamut,"  from  a  tribe  of 
Eskimo  of  that  name  at  the  mouth  <^f  the  Yukon.  It 
stands  about  as  high  as  the  Scotch  collie,  which  it  resem- 
bles a  little;  but  with  its  thick,  short  neck,  sharp  muzzle, 
oblique  eyes,  short,  pointed  ears,  dense,  ct>arse  hair,  which 
protects  it  from  the  severest  cold,  it  is  more  wolf-like 
than  any  other  variety  of  dog.  With  its  bushy  tail  car- 
ried tightly  curled  over  its  back,  with  head  and  ears 
erect,  and  with  its  broad  chest,  it  is  the  expression 
of  energy,  vitality,  and  self-reliance.  In  color  it  varies 
from  a  dirty  white  through  black  and  white  to  jet  black  ; 
but  therfc  is  also  another  sort,  a  grizzled  gray,  which 

208 


DOGS 

suggests  an  admixture  of  gray  wolf,  with  which  it  is 
known  to  mate.  Intlceil,  these  wolf -colored  dogs  s<^> 
closely  resemble  a  wolf  that  if  the  two  were  placed  side 
by  side  a  little  distance  off  it  wt)uld  be  ditlicult  to  dis- 
tinguish them,  but  at  a  nearer  view  the  dog  lacks  some- 
what the  hard,  sinister  expression  of  his  wild  relative. 
The  best  type  of  dog  is  still  to  be  found  amoivjr  tin-  Kski- 
mos.  as  well  as  among  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  interior, 


A  TYPICAL  "  MALAMLT 


but  these  latter,  known  as  **  Siwash"  dogs,  are  fretpiently 
inferior  in  size,  though  very  t(»ugh.  The  pure  type  has 
undergone  further  change  by  an  ailmixlure  of  **  outside  " 
dog,  such  as  St.  Bernard,  Newfoundland,  and  mongrel, 
that  the  miners  have  brought  in.  The  "inside"  doi^,  as 
the  native  dog  is  called  by  the  miners,  endures  hunger 
and  cold  l>etter  than  the  '* outside,"  anrl  is  therefore 
preferred  for  long  journeys  over  the  snow,  where  sj)eed 


THE    KLOXDIKE    STAMPEDE 

is  desired  and  food  is  scarce  or  hard  to  carry  or  procure. 
For  short-distance,  heavy  frei^htinj;  the  lar^e  St.  Ber- 
nard or  mastitT  is  unsurpassed,  but  it  eats  more.  In  Daw- 
s<:)n  this  winter  there  is  an  averay^e  of  one  do^  to  every 
three  or  f(^ur  of  the  population — prol)al)ly  fifteen  hundred 
dojjs  in  all — and  out  of  all  that  number  there  are  but  one 
bull-terrier,  one  pugf,  and  one  or  two  lapdoj^s,  which,  the 
other  day  when  I  was  in  town,  seemed  to  have  origan ized 
a  little  society  of  their  own,  comprising;  the  whole  small- 
dog  population.  Somebodies'  pets  they,  but  sadly  out  of 
place  here,  where  neither  dogs  nor  men  have  much  time 
for  play.  In  the  whole  place  there  is  not  another  do- 
mestic animal  but  dogs,  except  nine  or  ten  horses — not 
a  cat,  cow,  goat,  sheep,  or  fowl. 

The  load  a  strong  dog  can  pull  is  surprising.  With 
the  driver  at  the  *' gee-pole"  of  the  sled  to  help  over  in- 
e<jualities,  a  dog  will  drag  three  or  four  hundred  p4)unds 
along  a  go<Kl  trail  as  fast  as  a  man  walks;  while  with 
the  weight  of  a  man  he  switches  along  all  day  at  a  lively 
trot.  They  are  put  to  the  same  use  as  a  horse:  in  win- 
ter hauling  luml)er,  cord-wood,  logs,  and  supplies,  and  in 
summer  packing  small  loads  on  their  backs.  I  have  seen 
a  team  of  five  native  dogs  in  Bonanza  Creek  hauling  700 
feet  of  green  spruce  lumber,  weighing  1600  jHurnds. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  native  dt)g  does  not  manifest 
affection  for  its  master;  but  that  is  not  always  the  case. 
It  depends  upon  what  has  been  his  early  training— like 
master,  like  dog.  As  a  rule,  he  is  stolid  and  indifferent, 
deigning  to  notice  a  human  only  in  sharp  barks  and 
howls,  the  most  dismal  sound  in  nature,  but  he  hardly 
ever  snaf>s,  and  after  the  first  surprise  at  an  act  of 
?{indness  has  worn  off  he  shows  himself  capable  of 
narked  affection. 

In  a  ct>mmunity  of  dogs,  as  with  wolves,  there  is  one 

210 


DOGS 

who  is  master,  a  supremacy  attained  only  after  fierce 
and  often  bloody  encounters,  I  say  often  bloody,  for 
although  actual  hostilities  are  accompanied  by  an  up- 
roarious medley  of  snarls  and  other  expressions  of  dog 
wrath,  blood  rarely  flows,  nor  is  actual  pain  inflicted, 
unless  a  keen  fang  has  found  lodgment  in  a  leg;  for  the 


■  r 


«^^ 


OOG-TRAM   ON   THE  Tl  KOM  (THESE   DOCS  ARE  JlsT  COMPLETINt:   A 

SOO-MILE  JOt'ENET) 

beast  is  protected  by  fur  so  dense  that  the  most  violent 
shakings  have  little  effect.  The  frequent  encounters, 
therefore,  sound  and  look  a  great  deal  worse  than  they 
really  are,  a  fact  apparently  well  understood  by  the  dogs 
themselves,  for  a  Malamut  dog  is  the  biggest  bluffer  <»n 
earth,  as  well  as  the  coolest. 

311 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


I  was  watchinj;  two  do^s  one  day  in  the  niiildlc  of  the 
street.  One  fine  ^ray  felU)\v  was  sitting;  quietly  mind- 
ing his  own  business.  Suddenly,  for  no  reason  that  I 
could  see,  another  of  ecjual  size  put  its  countenance 
close  to  that  of  the  first,  lifted  its  lips  from  a  dou!)le  n>w 
of  hideous  ivory  fanjj^s,  braced  forward  on  its  fore-feet, 
and  drew  its  breath  in  with  a  sh  between  its  teeth.  1 
never  saw  a  m«jre  malij^nant  expression.  IlestcMnl  thus 
for  a  whole  minute,  at  each  breath  throwing  m«>re  and 

more  intensity  into  the 
threat,  for  such  it  evi- 
dently was,  until  it  was 
perfectly  evident  that 
no  limit  was  set  to  his 
ra^e  short  of  chewing 
the  ot  her  (hnj  into  small 
particles.  The  other 
doj;?  Why.  he  never 
so  much  as  turned  a 
hair,  but  s;it  there  with 
the  look  that  only  a 
Malamut  can  assume. 
When  the  other  had 
lashetl  himself  into  a 
fury,  he  turneil  his  head 
the  other  way,  say- 
ing as  plainly  as  w«»rds 
could  say  it,  **()h,  you 
bore  me  very  much!" 
Another  time  I  saw  what  well  illustrates  their  wolfish 
nature.  x\bout  thirty  dop;  of  different  sizes  and  values 
were  contending  for  lord-and-mastership  of  Main  Street, 
Dawson.  Tht  fight,  a  series  of  fierce  encounters.  res4>lved 
itself  after  some  hours  into  a  combat    Ix-tween    three 

212 


YUKON   SrnVE   RIGGED   FOR    SLEliGE 
JOCRNKY 


DOG    TRAITS 

p^rizzled  hlack  d<»j;s  of  j^roat  strength  and  annthcr  t-vcn 
larj^cr,  l)ut  evidently  a  mixture  of  Malanuit  and  '*  oiii- 
si<lc  **  doj:^,  havinjj  the  cut  of  the  Malamut,  but  with 
much  longer  hair,  which  was  of  the  ap|>earance  and  color 
of  an  old  red  tlmir-rug.  In  every  encounter  against  the 
three  individually  the  old  "door -mat"  was  successful. 
Finally  the  three,  during  a  breathing-spell,  turned  side 
by  side,  faced  the  other,  and  gave  him  "the  curse"  with 
ferocious  gleam  of  the  eye  and  lip- lifting.  The  next 
moment  three  dogs  were  on  top  of  the  red  one,  and  then 
three  miners  (a  crowd  was  following)  pulled  three  pro- 
testing dogs  away  by  the  scuff  of  the  neck  or  they  would 
have  killed  him.  A  general  separation  was  then  begun, 
dogs  being  too  valuable  to  lose.  The  red  dog  was  no 
sooner  released  than  he  got  up,  l(K>ked  around  defiantly, 
bleeding  from  cuts,  but  still  master  of  the  situation. 
Wo€  to  the  under  dog  in  an  impromptu  melee ;  he  has 
no  friend. 

A  Malamut  makes  a  {K)or  watch-dog.  being  a  natural- 
Ixjrn  thief  himself,  and  proud  than  otherwise  of  the 
fact.  Consetjuently,  everything  must  be  put  out  of 
reach  that  he  can  steal.  He  values  his  importance  with- 
out conceit  or  vanity  ;  throws  himself  down  to  sleep 
in  the  way  of  everybt>dy  by  day  or  night,  in  delightful 
c«.»ntidence  that  no  one  will  touch  or  hurt  him.  In  har- 
ness he  is  really  prou<l  of  his  work,  and  trots  along  with 
tail  tightly  curled,  head  up,  and  ears  erect,  with  a  happy, 
contented  "smile."  The  p«K)r  "  outside"  dog — one  feels 
sorry  for  him.  He  is  often  a  pet  or  a  game  dog,  and  the 
drudgery  of  harness  is  galling  to  his  pride.  One  meets 
him  on  the  trail,  tugging  hard  at  a  load  of  freight  for 
his  master,  with  tail  and  head  down.  He  casts  his  eves 
up  into  yours  with  a  shamed  expression  which  says, 
-  Who  ever  thought  that  I  would  come  to  this  I" 

213 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

As  an  instance  of  the  pride  a  dog  takes  in  his  work,  one 
day  a  dog-team  was  coming  down  Bonanza  trail.  Just 
where  the  trail  lifts  from  the  creek  into  the  woods  is  a 
raise  of  a  few  feet.  There  were  two  dogs  in  the  team,  and 
they  were  hauling  a  sled  with  a  moderate  load.  When 
they  came  to  the  rise  the  pole-dog  flunked.  The  driver 
^  ma/ish-ctf"  but  to  no  effect.  The  lead-dog  was  willing 
enough,  but  every  time  he  started  the  other  stopped. 
The  leader  stood  such  nonsense  as  long  as  he  could,  then 
turned  on  the  pole-dog,  threw  him  down,  and  wiped  the 
snow  with  him.  When  he  got  up  the  driver  took  the 
pole-dog  out,  and  the  leader  pulled  the  load  up  the  grade 
all  alone.     A  gcx)d  leader  is  all-important. 

There  are  times  when  kindness  won't  work  at  all.  If 
it  is  a  dog  that  an  Indian  has  raised  and  beaten  without 
reason  from  the  time  it  was  a  puppy  tied  to  a  string  by 
the  lodge  fire,  it  is  useless  to  expect  that  such  a  dog  will 
always  work  when  it  should  without  a  sound  beating. 
He  regards  a  gentle  driver  as  easy,  and  shirks  and  sulks. 
At  such  a  time  it  must  be  settled  who  is  master,  in  a 
way  that  the  dog  can  understand  and  remember ;  for, 
after  all,  he  is  a  wolf  in  many  ways,  and  in  the  wolf  pack 
It  is  cruel  brute  force  that  masters. 

Patience,  above  all  things,  is  needed  with  dogs.  They 
arc  most  willing  workers,  but  need  encouragement.  A 
dog -driver,  one  of  the  best  on  the  Yukon,  told  me: 
**The  half  of  them  don't  know  how  to  treat  their  dogs. 
They  don't  whip  them  at  the  right  time.  When  you 
have  to,  whip  a  dog  so  he  will  remember  it.  When  I 
started  to  drive  dogs,  and  one  sulked,  I  used  to  go  to 
the  dog,  give  him  a  cut.  and  jump  back  to  the  gee-pole, 
and  think  I  had  done  all  right.  Now  I  try  to  explain  it 
to  him  till  he  understands,  and  then  if  he  sulks  I  baste 
hell  out  of  him." 

214   ..      . 


FINEST    IK)(i-Ti:AM    IN    THE    K  LON  I)  I  K  IC 

The  tli>g-(lrivcr  who  vahics  his  iloj;s  never  uses  a  cluli 
or  stick  ;  yet  he  does  use  what  seems  more  cruel,  but 
really  is  not,  the  dog-chain,  or  he  pounds  his  thick-hair 
sides  with  his  fist.  The  regular  dog-driver's  whip,  which 
a  few  carry,  is  a  seal-leather,  eight-strand,  mund  plait  as 
thick  as  one's  thumb  and  five  feet  I<>ng,  tapering  to  a 
point,  with  a  wooden  handle  ten  inches  long.  The  leather 
is  wi;ighted  for  about  twenty  inches  from  the  handle 
with  a  slender  bag  inside  filled  with  shot. 

The  finest  dog-team  in  the  Klondike  is  a  team  of  five 
powerful  gray  ''huskies'*  from  the  Porcupine  River. 
This  winter  they  came  into  the  |)ossession  of  their  pres- 
ent owner,  Captain  Barnett,  of  the  Alaska  Commercial 
Company,  under  peculiar  circumstances.  Three  of  the 
team  of  five  were  owned  by  Chief  John  Shuman.  of  the 
band  of  Indians  at  Rampart  House,  the  Hudson's  Hay 
post  on  the  Porcupine.  The  Indians  went  on  their 
usual  fall  hunt  after  caribou,  but  the  caribou  failed  to 
run  as  they  expected,  and  the  village  of  alxiut  fifty 
souls,  on  the  verge  of  starvation,  started  for  Fort  Yukon, 
a  runner  l)eing  sent  ahead  to  inform  the  white  men. 
Captain  Barnett  organized  a  party  and  met  them  on 
the  river,  eighty  miles  up.  At  that  time  the  Indians 
had  been  for  three  days  with  nothing  to  eat  but  one 
rabbit  and  three  or  four  "dormice"  (ermines  or  weasels). 
A  big  "feed"  was  given,  and  Chief  J(»hn  Shuman,  wish- 
ing to  show  his  gratitude  to  the  white  men,  arose  dur- 
ing the  feast  and  made  a  big  speech,  telling  how  well 
he  had  been  treated,  saying  that  he  wanted  to  do  some- 
thing to  show  his  gratitude.  He  had  some  fine  dogs — 
white  men  had  wanted  to  buy  them  before — but  he  had 
.said  that  no  white  man  should  own  his  dogs.  Now  there 
was  one  white  man  whom  he  was  willing  should  have 
those  dogs,  and  he  was  Captain  Barnett. 

315 


THE    KLONDIKK    STAMPKDli: 

Caf)taiii  Hanutt  jjladly  paiM  the  Indian  $1200  fnr  thrcf 
dogs,  and  he  completed  the  team  liy  the  pureliasc  of 
two  more  fmm  another  Indian.  f«»r  which  he  paid  $500, 
makinjj  $1700  for  the  whole  team.  Besides  that,  he  t<M»k 
the  Indians  to  Fort  Yukon,  where  he  feasted  them  aj^ain, 
and  carried  Chief  John  Shuman  to  Cirile  City  to  sell  his 
furs,  and  only  when  he  had  done  this  did  he  then  become 
the  possessor  of  the  tlogs. 

They  are  splendid  feUows,  taller  than  the  Yukon  do^s, 
and  probably  are  what  they  are  sait!  to  be — "huskies," 
the  native  dog  of  the  Mackenzie  River. 


KLONDIKR  INDIAN   Imk;    ||.\RNF>S   M'-^^E   Hn»E   WITH    DRILL  TRACKS 


The  manner  of  harnessinjj  d«>jjs  differs  somewhat 
throughout  the  Northwest.  In  the  Hudson's  Hay  region 
south  of  Hudson's  Bay  the  il«>g  pulls  from  a  collar  by  a 
single  trace  over  the  back,  and  there  are  as  many  sejH 
arate  traces  as  tlogs.  In  the  Upi>er  Yukon  the  harness 
used  by  I)oth  Indians  and  white  men  is  a  collar,  with 
side-traces  and  back-bami,  and,  if  m«»re  than  one  dog  is 
used,  they  are  hitched  tandem,  the  traces  of  the  dog 
ahead  being  fastened  to  the  traces  of  the  one  behind, 
either  close  to  the  collar  or  at  a  i>oint  behind  the  back 
strap.  One  sort  of  collar  is  made  of  harness  leather 
stuffed  with  hair  and  stiffened  with  quarter-inch  iron 

216 


\ 


T 

■y. 

y 


r. 


DOG-HARXESS 

wire,  scrvinpj  as  hames,  but  part  of  the  collar  itstlf ;  the 
back-strap  and  belly-strap  are  also  leather,  aiul  the  har- 
ness is  fitted  with  metal  snaps,  th<:  traces  being  of  wel  - 
bing. 

The  native  Indian  harness  is  made,  the  collar  of  tanned 
moose-hide,  stuffed  with  moose-hair,  and  the  back-band, 
traces,  etc.,  of  the  same  material  or  of  a  double  thickness 
of  stout  canvas  or  twill;  the  traces  taper  to  a  point, 
with  a  wtKKlen  pin  which  passes  through  a  slit  or  loop 
at  the  sled  or  in  the  harness  of  the  dog  behind,  and  is 
brought  back  and  buttoned  into  a  hole  in  the  trace. 
This  is  readily  unfastened  in  cold  weather. 

If  a  Yukon  freight  sleigh,  with  a  gee-pole  for  steering, 
is  used,  the  pole-dog  is  hitched  to  a  short  singletree  con- 
nected with  the  sled  by  a  single  long  rope,  so  that  the 
dog"  is  just  ahead  of  the  man  at  the  jwle.  It  is  amusing 
to  see  the  driver  jumping  from  side  to  side  of  this  ro|)e, 
which  threatens  to  trip  him  up  at  every  turn. 

Another  kind  of  harness  is,  strangely  enough,  rarely 
seen  on  the  upper  river;  it  is  the  Eskimo  harness.  The 
Eskimo  harness  is  rather  hard  to  describe  intelligibly 
in  words.  It  is  made  of  a  strip  of  fresh  iK'ar-hide  alK>ut 
two  feet  long  and,  say,  a  foot  wide.  The  Eskimo  cuts 
three  slits  lengthwise  in  this.  The  middle  slit  is  about 
a  foot  long;  the  two  other  slits,  one  on  each  side  of  this, 
are  larger.  In  this  condition  it  has  no  resemblance  to  a 
harness,  but  the  middle  slit  is  pulled  over  the  dog's  head, 
and  the  fore-legs  are  lifted  and  thrust  through  first  one 
slit  and  then  the  other.  The  end  on  the  dog's  back  is 
connected  with  a  snap  and  swivel  to  a  single  long  seal- 
hide  trace,  the  dogs  being  hitched  either  tandem  at  inter- 
vals of  about  five  feet,  or  else  in  pairs  side  by  side  at  the 
same  distance  apart,  with  a  single  leader.  The  raw  bear- 
skin, by  pulling,  stretches  into  shape.     Another  harness 

219 


THE    KLOXDIKIC    STAMPKDi: 

is  made  of  the  ri^^ht  f«)rm  at  nnec  out  uf  n»|)c  or  tlnih. 
The  disadvantage  <»f  the  ICskimo  method  is  that  in 
wooded  country  one  doj;  may  j;«>  one  side  of  a  tree  while 


rsKIMO  rx^'.    HAKNF.SS 
A.   Bcjr-*Lia     B    kopc 


another  jjoes  the  other.  But  it  has  this  deei<letl  advant- 
age, that,  when  two  teams  meet  and  there  arist-s  a  ditler- 
ence,  as  generally  hap|>ens,  the  swivels  enahle  the  re- 
spective owners,  after  they  have  untangled  their  teams, 
to  straighten  the  dogs  out  at  once  without  untwisting. 
Or  when,  as  also  happens,  the  sle<l  gets  a  start  on  th<- 
dogs  and  everything  lands  in  a  heap  at  the  ftH)t  of  the 
hill,  the  sw^ivel  then  is  a  great  advantage. 

What  is  now  called  the  '*  Yukon  **  sleigh  was  an  inven- 
tion of  the  Cassiar  miners,  and  is  the  sleigh  in  general 

220 


SLEIOHS 

use  for  freightinjj.  The  distiiictive  slcij^h  <>f  ihc  Yukon 
is  the  "basket  "  sleij^h,  oriijinally  l)iiiltt>n  the  lower  river. 
It  is  a  lij^ht,  elastic  frame  <•»  liiokory,  oak,  or  white  bireh, 
lashetl  with  rawhide,  runners  half  a  foot  high,  the  vertical 
side  timbers  of  the  runners  extending  al>ove  the  lud 
one  f<H»t  at  the  front  and  two  feet  at  the  rear.  Hnished 
off  with  a  rail  iwi  top,  the  interstices  Ixring  tilled  with 


B.\SKKT  SI.FIi;il 


a  netting  of  cord  or  rawhide.  Two  handles,  after  the 
manner  t)f  plough-handle>,  are  placed  at  the  rear,  and  by 
these  the  driver  steers  and  prevents  upsi-iiing.  The  in- 
land Eskimo  sleil  is»»f  white  birch,  which  is  not  stri»ng. 
but  on  the  coast  it  is  made  of  drift w«mhI,  much  heavier. 
and  shtxl  with  l)«>ne.  In  length  the  l»asket  sleigh  is 
eight  to  twelve  feet,  and  in  width  twenty  to  twenty- 
two  inches.  The  flat  Indian  t<d)oggan,  made  of  white 
birch,  l>ent  up  in  fri»nt,  is  used  by  the  natives  in  hunt- 
ing, but  is  not  serviceable  ft)r  the  trail. 

For  the  following  tletails  of  an  etpiipment,  such  as  has 
hitherto  been  necc»ssary  for  the  trip  from  Dawson  to 
Dyea,  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  A.  I).  Xash,  one  <*(  the  best 
d«>g-<lrivers  on  the  Yukon. 

On  his  last  trip  out  he  figured  on  provisiMus  for  thirty 
days.  The  party  consisted  of  four  men.  with  six  dogs  to 
a  basket  sleigh  and  six  to  a  freight  sleigh.  lx»lh  with  22- 
inch  track.      He   sent  beft>rehand  to   Fort    Sc-lkirk    bv 


221 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

steamer  350  ptninds  of  f«»otl,  cimsisting  of  icx>  lbs,  of 
dric<l  salmon,  100  lbs.  of  bacon,  and  100  l!)S.  of  rice  for 
the  dogs,  and  50  lbs.  of  provisions,  including  one  cooked 
ham,  for  the  men. 

When  he  left  Dawson  he  carried,  f<^r  the  men  :  45  lbs. 
of  bacon;  i}  50-Ib.  sacks  of  flour,  15  lbs.  of  which  were 
made  up  into  doughnuts,  which  were  frozen  and  put  into 
a  sack  ;  20  lbs.  of  rice  ;  15  lbs.  of  beans  ;  10  lbs.  of  n»llcd 
oats;  20  lbs.  of  dried  fruit;  lo  lbs.  of  corn-meal;  30  lbs. 
of  butter;  tea,  coffee,  and  beef  e.xtract  (the  last  is  all 
right,  but  a  man  can't  live  on  it);  6  cans  of  cocoa;  1 
doz.  cans  of  milk;  a  few  cans  of  beef  and  mutton;  1 
ham,  ready  c«K>ked.  And  f«»r  the  dogs  the  follt»wing. 
175  lbs.  of  rice;  235  lbs.  of  bacon;  150  lbs.  of  salmon. 
The  rest  of  the  equipment  consisted  of  4  r«>bes  i  lyn.\, 
I  bear,  2  caribou ;  canvas  bed-cover,  6x7  ft.,  to  lay  on 
the  ground;  10  x  10  drill-tent, with  2-ft.  wall;  sheet-imn 
stove,  without  oven,  9  x  12  x  24  in.,  with  3  joints  of  pijx; 
stowed  inside  loose,  a  damper  in  the  first  joint,  and  a 
chain  at  rear  for  lifting  the  stove  each  m<.»rning  without 
burning  the  mittens.  A  tank  was  made  of  c«»ppcr  to  fit 
around  stove-pipe,  to  hold  i  gallon,  (or  melting  sn<»w 
and  ice,  with  a  half-cover  top;  a  cooking  outfit  of  2 
fr>'ing-pans  and  2  small  kettles,  and  a  spix>n,  tin  plate, 
and  tin  cup  for  each  man.  Two  axes  ;  a  repair  kit,  with 
rawhide  for  replacing  the  lashings  of  the  basket  sleigh ; 
snow-shoes,  two  pairs;  one  long  '* trail-breaker,"  five  or 
six  feet  long  by  fifteen  inches  wide;  and  "trail  shoes," 
two  and  a  half  feet  long  by  nine  inches  wide.  A  couple 
of  dog-chains  go  with  the  outfit  for  rough-Unrks  under 
the  sleighs  when  going  down  steep  grades. 

For  corjking  the  dog-f<xKl  a  sjKfcial  tank  was  made 
of  4-x  tin,  into  which  the  stove  telcscoj)ed,  with  J-inch 
iron  handles  riveted  to  each  end,  and  hingeil  so  as  to 

222 


A    DOa-TEAM    EQUIPMENT 


drop  out  of  the  way.  This  tank  was  put  on  an  ojh'u  fire, 
while  the  stove  was  used  to  warm  the  lent.  The  o|)cn 
fire  c(X)ks  in  less  time  than  the  stove. 

The  daily  allowance  t>f  each  (K>jj  was  one  cup  of  rice 
and  one  pound  of  bacon,  and  one-half  pound  of  Hsh  at 
nijj^ht.  Dogs  are  fed  only  once  a  day.  but  sometimes, 
when  the  men  stop  at  ntK>n  to  b*>il  a  kettle  of  tea  and 
eat  a  doughnut,  each  are  given  a  doughnut ;  but  the 
rule  is  to  give  them  all  they  can  eat  once  a  day. 

To  load  the  sleigh,  the  bed-cover  U  placc<l  over  the 
sleigh,  and  the  gooils  laid  on,  and  the 
c<^ver  folded    over   close   and    lashetl 
tight,  so  that  if  the  sleigh  rolls  over 
nothing  can  spill  out. 

The  tent  is  rigged  with  a  ridge-pole 
of  rope,  so  as  to  be  swung  l)etween  two 
trees,  with  a  rope  inside  to  hang  clothes 
to  dry. 

The  native  dog  needs  no  care,  fur- 
ther than  if  his  feet  get  s<^>re  he  may 
ct)me  into  the  tent  and  dry  ihem. 
Dog  moccasins  (little  pockets  with 
leather  stales  and  cloth  tops)  are  some- 
times used. 

It  is  better,  all  travellers  say,  to  avoid 
a  cabin  at  night,  as  one  cannot  so  com- 
pletely dry  off  as  in  one's  own  tent. 

One  who  pictures  the  frozen  smixjth 
river  as  a  pond  cannot  understand  the 
difficulties  of  the  trail.    The  fust  team 
up  from  Circle  City  this  winter  was  thirty-five  days  mak- 
ing the  journey,  and  chopped  its  way  forty  times  acro>s 
the  river. 

Twenty-five  to  thirty  days  was  consi»lcred  gixnl  time 

223 


M«>CCAbiNN 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

out  to  Dyea  in  early  winter,  and  eij^htccn  in  retiirninj^ 
in  sprinjj.  The  quickest  time  lK*t\veen  Dawson  and  tl)c 
coast  is  claimed  bv  Ho!)  Enslev  in  sixteen  davs.* 

«  •  * 

One  of  the  Ii>nt;est  dojj^  j<»urneys  on  record  was  made 
by  youn^  Charles  Hamilton,  of  the  North  American 
Transportation  and  Tradinvj  Com[)any,  who,  in  order  to 
communicate  before  the  next  si)rinix  with  tiie  orticers  of 
his  ct»mpany  at  Chicaj^o,  left  St.  Michael  on  Novend)er 
26th,  1S92,  with  1000  |K)unds  of  out  tit  on  three  sleds 
drawn  by  twenty-one  dojrs.  He  reached  the  coast  on 
March  19th  the  next  year,  having  travelled  a  distance 


riAXmin  lU'NTINO   S^OW-SHAK   Wp  TR  MT-  "^NOW  SUOR 


of  over  iSoo  river- miles,  a  distance  made  hundreds  <»f 
miles  jjreater  by  the  devious  windinjjs  of  the  trail.  He 
walkeil  much  of  the  <!istancc  on  snow-shoes,  jjuitled  by 
Indians,  meetinjj  with  much  hardship  but  no  serious 
mishap.  This  winter  "Jack"  Carr,  a  United  States  mail- 
carrier,  made  the  same  trip,  but  l«>st  several  of  his  <lo^s 
from  exhaustion. 

The  life  of  a  dojj-frei;^hter  is  one  of  hardest  work;  but 
the  clear,  ruddy  complexion,  elastic  step,  with  the  swaj^- 
ger  and  snap  that  show  mastery  of  his  team,  are  proof 

♦  As  thes«»  words  are  writtrn  news  arrives  that  in  M.irrli.  i84><;. 
one  team  of  c!«»</s  has  inadr  lh«*  trip  in  trn  <lavs.  ami  tli.it  the 
mounted  ptWuc  have  si*nt  mail  out  in  less  time  l)y  relays. 

224 


HARDSHIPS    OF    A    !)()(;  - 1)  R  I  VF.  R 

enouji^h  that  hardship,  instead  of  sonu'thii)!^  to  be  shirkt*«l, 
is  necessary  to  the  most  vii^oroiis  health,  to  a  \  i^«)rous 
l>Kly  and  a  clear  brain.  Wahlron  toUl  ot  his  last  trip  on 
the  river  last  winter. 

**  Last  winter,  when  p^rub  was  hij^h,  I  went  down  with 
a  doj;-team  to  Circle.  The  wind  blew  s«»  hard  at  one  tinu- 
that  it  blew  the  trail-sled,  piled  with  stuff,  clean  over, 
and  blew  the  do«jjs  out  in  a  string.  You  sweat  like  every- 
thing when  you  are  travellinj^,  anil  the  Mackinaws  freeze 
like  a  board.  My  c*>at  froze,  and  I  turned  it  to  the  fire 
ami  burned  a  hole  in  the  back.  I  sews  that  up,  but  that 
made  it  so  I  couldn't  button  it  in  front:  so  I  Kts  in  a 
piece  of  jjunny-sack  in  front.  I  had  ijunny-sacks  an»und 
my  lej^  and  a  mukluk  on  <>ne  f«H»t  and  a  moccasin  on 
the  other.  I  froze  both  feet,  the  ti|»s  *»{  my  fini^ers,  and 
my  nose,  face,  and  ears.  I  was  a  pretty-lo«»kinij  sij^ht 
when  I  jjjot  into  Circle.  The  lH>ys  didn't  know  me.  It 
is  impt>ssible  li>  cover  up  the  face  >«»  it  will  not  freeze 
when  it  blows  on  the  river.  I  diiln't  want  any  more  of 
that,  and  I  came  up  with  a  load  and  jjave  up  freij^hting 
between  here  and  Circle." 

One  of  these  dojjs  is  a  Malamut,  jet  black,  with  a  liol>- 
tail,  and  fur  so  thick  that  one  can  hardly  si'parate  the 
hairs  to  sec  to  the  skin.  His  fur  is  like  that  *A  a  very 
thick  black -bear -skin.  He  weighs  eighty  i)ounds,  and 
he  U>oks  so  much  like  a  black  Ix-ar  that  if  a  man  saw 
him  t»n  the  trail  at  a  distance  he  would  >.h«H»i  him.  He 
is  as  kind  as  a  kitten,  and  loves  to  lie  i>etted,  but  is  ttH> 
heavy  to  get  into  Wahlron's  lap,  ;is  he  tries  to  d<i. 


CHAPTER  XI  r 

Kimls  of  C»ol«l  Mininj; — Varieties  of  («>KI— 'Methotis  o(  "riicrr**  Min- 
ing— **  ranninu  *' — "Rocking*' — "Sluicinj;" — Kir^t  (ii>IJ  Mining  in 
ihe  Yukon—"  Bar  Dij^int^s**— l>iM.o\er)'  of  CoarMr  (i»>lil — l>iM:o\cry 
o(  "  Buminj;*' — "Summer  DiiJgint;^"  an«l  "  Winter  l>ii;^in};N*' 

OLD  mininjj  is  of  two  kinds.  One 
known  as  "bed-rock,"  or  "cjiiartz," 
mining,  is  {H^rformed  by  crushing  the 
original  vein-rock  in  which  the  gold 
has  been  dcjK>sited  by  nature,  and 
separating  the  metal.  Ciold  occurs 
not  alone  in  tjuartz,  but  in  mica-schist, 
feldspar,  and  other  "  melamorphic" 
rock,  so  that  the  term  "bed-HKk** 
mining  is  in  one  sense  more  proper  than  **quartz**  min- 
ing; but  as  quartz  is,  in  the  United  States,  the  com- 
monest rock  in  which  gold  is  found  in  considerable 
quantity,  "quartz"  mining  is  the  term  in  universal  use 
here. 

The  other  kind  of  mining  is  known  as  "  placer,"  or 
stream-bed,  mining.  In  placer  or  stream-bed  dc{>>sits 
nature,  operating  with  water  and  air,  has  already  d«»ne 
the  work  of  the  crusher,  and  to  a  certain  extent  that  of 
the  separator  also.  The  particles  of  metal  which  grew  in 
the  veins  have,  by  the  wearing  down  of  the  mountain 
masses,  found  their  wav  into  the  vallevs  of  creeks  and 
rivers,  and  rest  on,  in,  or  near   iK^d-rock — bed-rock  as 

226 


"PLACER*    MINIX(; 

understocxl  by  the  placer -miner  being  not  necessarily 
the  hard  rock-formation,  but  any  substance,  even  clay, 
sufficiently  dense  to  hold  the  jjold,  which,  by  reason  of 
Its  great  weight,  seeks  the  lowest  level.  In  placer  min- 
ing expensive  machinery  is  not  usually  recpiircd,  but 
only  such  as  a  man  can  easily  carry  with  him  or  make 
with  his  own  hands;  hence  placer  mining  is  frequently 
spoken  of  as  *' jK>or-man*s"  mining.  As  placer  golil  is 
commonly  within  the  reach  of  every  man  with  strong 
hands,  the  discovery  of  rich  placer  deposits  has  always 
aroused  more  excitement  than  the  discovery  of  vastly 
richer  gold-bearing  veins. 

Often  the  bed  of  the  stream  in  which  the  gold  first 
fell  has  continued  to  wear  deeper,  and  wherever  that 
has  happened  the  bulk  of  the  gold  has  found  a  new  level ; 
but  a  considerable  portion  may  remain  hundreds  of  feet 
above  the  newer  stream-bed,  in  situations  that  in  no  way 
suggest  a  river  channel  until  the  surface  of  the  ground 
is  removed  and  water -worn  gravel  found  beneath. 
Such  deposits  are  termed  '* bench,"  or  "hill-side  "  dig- 
gings, and  are  to  be  looked  for  by  experienced  miners 
alongside  rich  gold-bearing  streams. 

Gold  in  its  metallic  forms  is  variously  known  as  "  flour*' 
gold,  "  leaf  ••  or  *'  float  '*  gold,  "  wire  "  gold,  "  fine  "  gold, 
** coarse**  gold,  and  **  nuggets.'*  Flour  gold  may  be  so 
fine  as  to  be  scarcely  visible  to  the  unaided  eye ;  leaf 
gold  is  in  thin  flattened  pieces  up  to  half  an  inch  or 
more  square,  and  wire  gold  is  gold  in  short  wire -like 
pieces.  Coarse  gold  is  a  general  term  that  includes 
everything  above  fine  or  flour  gold,  or,  say,  from  the  size 
of  coarse  corn-meal  to  that  of  grains  of  wheat  or  larger. 
*•  Nugget'*  is  likewise  a  flexible  term.  Where  fine  gold 
predominates,  a  smaller  piece  might  be  called  a  nugget 
than  where  coarse  gold   is  the  rule.     Nuggets  run  in 

237 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

weijjht    from,  say,  a    pennyweight    to  as   much   as   an 
ordinary  man  can  lift  with  his  hands. 

Gold  when  found  in  natiire  in  tlie  metallic  state  is 
tcrmeil  "native,"  and  is  never  found  perfectly  pure,  but 
alloyed  with  other  metals,  such  as  silver,  antimony,  tin, 
copixfr,  etc.,  the  proportion  varying  greatly  in  diflerent 


w*^^ 


1UX»ND1KK  Nt'GOETS—lWO-TIURDS  NATURAL  SllK 

localities,  and  determining  the  relative  ** fineness  *'  of  the 
gold. 

To  separate  the  gold  from  the  dirt  and  gravel  in  placer 
mining  the  same  general  principle  is  emi)loyed  as  by  nat- 
ure—  namely,  water  in  motion.  The  simplest  tool  for 
this  purpose,  and  that  which  every  placer-miner  provides 
himself,  is  the  **pan,"a  dish  of  sheet -iron  two  or  three 

228 


inches  deep,  with  flarinj;  sides,  ab«»ut  a  foot  in  diameter 
at  the  bottom,  and  seventeen  or  eighteen  inches  at  tlie 
top;  a  pick,  and  a  shovel  with  a  round  point  and  lonjj^ 
handle,  complete  the  essential  t(K»Is  of  the  placer-miner. 


PXNXING 


**  Panninjj"  ts  performed  by  fillinj^  the  pan  with  the 
gravel  believeil  to  contain  gold  and  taking  it  to  a  stream 
or  vessel  of  water;  then,  holding  the  pan  in  both  hands. 
it  is  dipped  into  the  water  and  shaken  so  as  to  disturb 
the  contents  and  allow  the  gold  to  fall  to  the  IxH- 
tom.  The  larger  rocks  l>eing  removed  by  hand,  the 
dirty  water  and  light  stones  are  allowed  to  run  over 

229 


THK    KLOXDIKK    STAMIMIDi: 

the  rim  of  the  pan.     The  pan  is  aj^ain  (\\\vt\  with  water 
and  shaken,  and  this  operation  is  kept  up  until  there  re- 
mains in  the  lx)ttr>m  of  the  pan  only  the  heavier  sand 
and  particles  of  other  metal,  such  as  majjnetic  iron,  or 
**  black  sand,"   which  is   jjenerally   found  in  abundance 
with  gold.     When  the  contents  of  the  pan  have  In^en  re- 
duced to  the  bulk  of,  say.  a  tablesp<x>nful,  a  little  clean 
water  is  taken   into  the  pan,  and   the  pan  j^iven  a  tilt 
which  causes  the  water  to  swish  back  and  f«»rth,  or  else, 
by  a  peculiar  rotary  motion,  around  and  anmnd  the  pan. 
The  lighter   particles  are  carried  ahead  by  the  water, 
and,  if  there  is  gold  in  the  dirt,  little  yellow  grains  will 
be  observe<l  to  drag  behind,  plainly  visible  c»n  the  tlark 
iron  of  the  pan.     WTien  one  has  once  seen  ,;;*»/</,  nothing 
else  can  be  mistaken  for  it.*     When  the  gold  is  **fine*' 
there  is  danger  of  its  floating  off  in  the  water ;  so,  when 
such  Is  known   to  be   the   case,  the  miner  puts  a  few 
drops  of  tpiicksilver  into  the  pan.     Gold  and  <|L:icksilver 
have  a  strong  artinitv,  and  the  instant  thev  are  brouirht 
tc»gether  the  two  unite,  forming  an  amalgam,  which  is 
easily  secured.     The  pan  containing  the  amalgam  mav 
be  heated  over  a  fire,  which  dissipates  the  cjuicksilver, 
leaving  a  mass  of  fine  gold.     But  when  it  is  desiretl  to 
save  the  quicksilver,  the  amalgam  is  poured  into  a  little 
sack  of  fine  cloth  and  the  quicksilver  s<jueezed  out,  and 
when  no   more  can  be  removed  the  lump  is  heated  to 
dispel  the  remaining  quicksilver.     If  the  gohl  is  **  ct»arse," 
the  pan   is  simply  drie«l  and  the  gf»ld  weighe<l  on  the 
scales,  which  every  miner  carries,  and  put  int<»  a  little 
buckskin  bag.     A  single  grain  c»f  gold  is  called  a  **  color." 
A  prospector  will  say  that  he  found  so  many  ** colors," 
but  it  has  no  direct  reference  to  the  value.     What  con- 

•  -  Fools'  gold." so  often  mistaken  by  the  inexperienced,  is  sul- 
phurct  of  iron,  or  iron  p\Titcs. 

230 


THE    "ROCKER" 

stitutcs  **  pay**  dirt  varies,  of  course,  with  the  amount 
of  wages  a  man  is  willinjj:  or  able  to  work  for.  A  **  pn»s- 
pcct"  is  simply  the  gold  a  miner   Hnds  in  one  pantrl. 


J' 


3|. 


y 


^> 


-'W^. 


^^-^^^"^^^'^^- 


••  ftOCRINC 


and  the  term  is  usually  employeil  to  mean  an  amount 
sufficient  to  pay  for  the  work. 

The  **pan"  is  the  miner's  basis  of  estimate.  Two 
"shovelfuls"  make  one  pan,  103  **pans"  make  one  cubic 
yard  of  earth.  In  this  way  he  will  try  to  estimate  the 
probable  amount  of  gold  which  the  gravel  deposit  con- 
tains. 

When  the  prospector  has,  by  panning,  located  a  de- 

33< 


THE    KL  ONI)  IKK    STAMPKDF. 

posit  of  jj^oM,  he  usually  constructs  a  mac  hinc  f<»r  ni<»rc 
rapklly  washiuj^  the  j:jravcl.  The  simplest  ct»ntrivance, 
next  to  the  pan,  is  what  is  called  the  '*  rocker/'  siiid  to 
be  a  Chinese  invention.  The  rocker  is  simply  a  lx»x  on 
rockers,  like  a  cradle,  with  a  perforated  metal  top,  <>r 
'*hop|>cr/'  and  a  slopinj^  blanket,  or  "apron."  inside.  It 
15  set  near  the  water  and  the  dirt  shovelled  into  the  per- 
foratetl  hopper.  Water  is  <lipped  up  in  a  lon^handled 
dipper  and  |>oured  in  with  the  dirt,  the  nx-ker  iH-inij 
enerjreticallv  riK^ked  at  the  same  time*  hv  means  of  an 


e**"^      J-?;^ ---<-•  ;,^1jS/   5.',    *•    • 


MAKlNt;   .\    **CL*:AN-rp"    KKOM    A    RtX  KKk 


uprijjht  handle.     The  larc:er  stones  are  removed  hy  hand, 
the   jjold    falls  thr<iuj;h    iM?rforations   and    l^nlj^es   upon 
the  apron,  which  at  intervals  is  cleaned,  the  contents 
/  ■    ■  ■       232     ■ 


t*  o 


S  L  U  1 C  I  N  (i  " 

being  placet!  in  a  bucket  with  quicksilver  until  all  ihc 
fine  particles  of  gold  were  taken  up.  The  anial;4ani 
forme<l  is  stjueezed  in  a  cloth  filter,  and  the  remaining 
lump  heated  over  a  fire  until  practically  all  trace  of  the 
(piicksilvt-r  disapi>ears.  If  the  g<»ld  is  coarse,  however,  the 
contents  of  the  apron  are  simply  scraped  into  a  pan, 
and  then  carefully  panned  out.  The  rocker  may  vary 
somewhat  in  details  of  construction,  but  the  principle 
remains  the  same  in  all.  The  dipper  is  often  made  out 
of  a  round  two-quart  can,  fitted  with  a  stick  about  two 
feet  long  set  at  an  acute  angle.  The  rocker  is  esi)ecially 
useful  where  there  is  a  scarcity  of  water,  as  it  can  be 
placed  over  a  tank  or  reservoir,  and  the  same  water  used 
again  and  again. 

When  there  is  what  the  miners  call  a  sufficient  **head  " 
or  fall  and  volume  of  water,  the  miner  resorts  to  the 
**sluice-box  "  as  the  next  most  e.\peditious  method.  The 
sluice-box  is  a  box  about  twelve  feet  long,  with  open 
ends;  the  bottom  being  a  board  fourteen  inches  wide  at 
one  end,  twelve  inches  at  the  other,  and  the  sides  eight 
inches  high.  It  is  made  narrower  at  one  end  so  that  the 
lower  end  of  one  box  will  just  fit  into  the  upj^r  end  <»f 
another,  where  several  are  placed  together  to  form  a 
continuous  waterway. 

On  the  floor  of  the  box  is  placed  a  frame  called  a 
"riffle,"  made  either  of  round  or  s<}uare  poles  two  inches 
or  less  in  diameter,  placed  lengthwise,  or  else  short  ones 
crosswise;  the  riffles  are  made  so  that  they  can  be  lifted 
out  of  the  box.  The  length  of  a  string  of  boxes  de[>ends 
on  the  fineness  of  the  gold,  for,  obviously,  the  smaller  gold 
will  be  carried  farther  by  the  water  than  the  coarse  be- 
fore it  settles  in  the  interstices  of  the  riffles ;  and  as  there 
must  be  sufficient  rapidity  of  current  to  carry  the  light 
stones,  it  is  also  evident  that  the  water  must  start  at  a 

255 


TIIK    KLONUIKl-:    STAMIM:I)E 

sufficient  t'lcvatinti  fi)r  the  water  leavinj;  tlie  Ixjxes  to 
run  on  down  stream.  So  a  dam  is  Imilt  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  j^round  to  be  W(»rked,  with  two  sliiiec-j^^ates, 
one  ofH;nin^  into  the  shjiee-lK>xes,  and  another  into  a 
ditch  or  flume,  l)y  which  the  water  of  tlie  creek  not 
ni-ciled  for  the  lK>xes  is  diverted  around  the  chiim. 
Whenever  the  j;radc  of  the  creek  is  st>  shj;ht  that  the 
re<|uisite  heati  of  water  cannot  \h:  had  in  the  leni^th  of 
a  sinjjlc  claim,  several  miners  often  unite  and  build  one 
dam. 

At  the  lower  end  of  a  string;  of  sluice-lK»xes  is  one  two 
feet  wide  at  the  upf)er  end,  narrowing  to  a  foot  at  the 
lower,  and  of  the  s;ime  leni;th  as  a  l)ox,  or  shorter.  This 
Is  called  the  '*dump-lx)X,*'  and  is  also  titted  with  rit!le>. 
S>me  miners  adil  two  or  three  more  Ixtxes  with  riltles, 
known  as  **  tail-boxes."  The  dirt  and  stones  that  have 
been  worked  over  once  in  the  rocker,  or  sluice-boxes,  are 
called  **  tailings." 

For  ordinary  coarse  g<»ld  the  grade  is  as  follows  :  The 
upper,  or  **lead,"  Ijoxcs  are  set  on  a  half-imh  grade,  the 
ne.\t  four  to  six  on  a  6-inch  grade,  the  last  one  on  an 
8-inch  grade,  and  the  **dump-l)o\"  on  a  5-inch  grade. 

After  the  water  is  turned  into  the  boxes  the  gt .Id- 
bearing  dirt  is  shovelled  in — the  big  stones  being  forked 
out — until  the  crevices  of  the  ritlles  are  choked.  Theti 
the  water  is  turned  otf,  the  rirtles  taken  up,  and  a  little 
water  turned  in  and  the  gold  carefully  separated.  This 
operation  is  called  "cleaning  up,"  and  will  l>e  more  i)ar- 
tk'ularly  described  later.  A  "  l>ox  length  "  is  an  area  of 
jjround  measured  by  the  length  of  the  Ikjx,  twelve  feet. one 
way  and  six  feet  each  side  the  1k)x,  being  as  far  as  a  man 
cran  reach  with  the  long-hantlled  shovel,  the  area  l)eing 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  .>tpiare  feet.  The  term  is 
used  in  speaking  of  the  amount  of  gold  cleaned  up  from 

-34 


FIRST    MINERS    IN    TIIH    V  I' K  o  N 

that  extent  of  jjround.  The  expression  so  many  ounrcs 
or  dollars  of  gold  **to  the  shovel"  means  the  amount  in 
ounces  or  dollars  that  ofti-  man  shovels  into  the  lx»xes 
///  0M^  tftir^or  a  specified  number  of  hours.  The  "pay 
streak"  is  that  part  of  the  stratum  of  p>l(l-bearin^  j::ravel 
that  is  rich  enough  to  pay  to  work.  The  *'cut"  is  the 
opening  in  the  steam-bed  in  which  the  sluice-box  is  set  up. 
There  are  other  methods  and  contrivances  f«»r  saving 
j^old,  such  as  hydraulicking  ;  but  the  foregoing  general 
description  of  the  simple  tiH)ls  known  to  all  miners  is  all 
that  is  needed  to  prepare  the  reader  for  an  account  of 
gold  discovery  in  the  Yukon,  and  how  certain  metho<l> 
of  mining  were  discovered  that  make  the  Klondike  dif- 
ferent from  all  other  gold-fields  yet  discovered. 

As  early  as  the  year  1857,  only  nine  years  after  the 
discovery  of  gold  in  California,  a  northward  movement 
along  the  western  coast  resulted  in  the  discovery  in  that 
year  of  placer  gold  on  Fraser  River,  in  Briti>h  Colum- 
bia, and  a  stampede  from  California.  In  1S71  the  rich 
** Caribou"  District  was  discovered,  and  another  excite- 
ment ensued,  which  resulted,  in  1S74,  in  the  discovery  of 
rich  gold-fields  in  the  Cassiar  Mountains,  b«»th  of  which 
districts  lie  immediately  south  of  the  headwaters  of 
the  Lewes  River.  The  Cassiar  placers  were  in  time  ex- 
hausted, and  the  hardy  miners  pushed  on,  not  directly 
over  the  mountains,  but  following  bars  of  the  Stikeen 
River,  which  was  a  large  gold-prinlucing  stream,  to  its 
mouth,  and  thence  n<irtherly  along  the  Ala>kan  c«»a>h 
In  i88o.  Silver  Bow  Basin  was  discovered,  back  of  the 
present  tom-n  of  Juneau,  which  was  first  called  llarris- 
burg,  in  honor  of  Dick  Harris,  one  of  the  two  original 
discoverers,  but  was  subsequently  changed  to  Juneau,  af- 
ter Joe  Juneau,  the  other  partner.    Reports  had  reached 

235 


THE    KL0NM)IKL:    STAMPKDi: 

the  outside  from  time  to  time  that  traces  of  j^old  had 
been  discovered  by  employes  of  tradinjj^  com[)anies  in 
the  Yukou.  Hut  the  pass  over  the  mountains  into  the 
Yukon  was  j^uarded  by  the  Chilkat  anil  Cliilk(H>t  Indians, 
who  opposed  the  entrance  of  all  white  men  into  the  coun- 
try for  any  purpose.  The  year  of  the  Silver  How  strike 
a  party  of  white  men  crossed  over — the  first  whom  the 
Indians  allowed  to  j;o  through.  This  party  broujj:ht  back 
gcxxl  rejKirts  of  the  bars  on  the  Lewes  River,  and  from 
this  time  on  other  parties  crossed  the  pass,  built  their 
boats  on  the  other  side,  ami  desceiuled  the  river  farther 
and  farther,  working  the  bars— generally  returning  to  the 
coast  the  same  season.  Xo  mining  was  attempted  in  the 
winter,  nor  was  it  possible.  All  the  work  was  done  in 
the  short  summer  between  the  breaking-up  of  the  ice 
in  the  river  and  the  freezing  in  early  fall ;  but  the  almost 
continual  daylight  of  that  latitude  and  seastjn  s*jmcwhat 
increased  their  hours  of  work. 

The  "bar/*  as  the  term  is  usetl  by  the  miner,  does  not 
necessarily  mean  a  shallow  jK^rtion  of  the  river;  rather 
it  is  an  alluvial  dei>osit  of  sand  and  gravel,  often  ten  or 
twenty  feet  or  more  above  the  low -water  level  of  the 
river.  These  high  banks  carried  gold  in  tine  particles, 
but  so  widely  distributed  that  the  miners  did  not  even 
try  to  work  them;  but  in  the  process  of  their  washing 
down  at  freshet  time  the  gravel  was  de|K>sited  inside  the 
bends  of  the  river,  and  the  gold  concentrated  into  layers, 
or  strata,  usually  richest  near  the  heads  of  the  bars. 
The  rocker  was  employetl  alt<»gether  to  separate  the 
gold,  which  was  denominated  "fine."  The  g<»ld-l)earing 
sands  were  near  the  surface,  and  some  of  these  bars 
proved  very  rich.  Cassiar  Har,  bel<)w  the  mouth  of  the 
Hootalinqua,  in  iSS6  yielded  to  five  men  on  the  head 
claims  $6000  for  thirty  day.s*  work. 

2^ 


FIRST    MIXERS    IX    THE    YUKoX 

Another  and  ini(M»rtant  factor  now  entered  into  the 
development  of  the  Yukon  mines.  The  Alaska  Com- 
mercial Company,  sin^n  after  the  purchase  of  Alaska  by 
our  government  from  Russia  in  1S67.  was  ^iven  a  hase 
of  the  sealing  rights  of  the  PribylotY  Islamls,  which  car- 
ried with  it  a  practical  mono|>oly  of  the  fur -trade  of 
Alaska,  then  solely  a  fur-producing  country.  From  the 
ct>mpany*s  main  distributing- |>oints,  Kadiak  and  Un- 
alaska,  it  supplied  the  sub- station  of  St.  Michael,  and 
from  there,  at  first  by  one  small  steamer,  the  Yiiiou, 
gcxnls  were  sent  to  different  jx^ints  on  the  Yukon  where 
its  agents  were  engaged  in  the  Indian  trade.  Chief  of 
these  agents  at  this  time  were  LeRoy  X.  McOueslen, 
better  known  as  **  Jack"  McOuesten,  Arthur  Har^K'r,  and 
AI  Mayo,  who,  with  some  others  not  so  well  known,  came 
into  the  Yukon  about  the  year  1871,  from  the  Xorthwest 
Territory,  by  way  oi  the  Mackenzie  and  Porcupine  rivers. 
The  Indian  population  was  larger  then  than  now,  and 
the  furs  from  the  Yukon  were  of  a  high  grade,  the  sable 
Ixring  second  only  to  the  celebrated  Russian  sable  from 
Kamtchatka.  The  traders  occupic^l  posts  from  time  to 
time  at  diflferent  points  on  the  Midtlle  Yukon.  McOues- 
ten built  Fort  Reliance,  si.\  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the 
Klondike  River,  in  1S73,  and  occupied  that  |K>>t  until 
1882.    Not  a  few  of  the  first  miners  wintered  at  this  jK>st. 

In  1885  rich  bars  were  discovered  on  the  Stewart 
River,  and,  with  the  rush  of  miners  there  the  next  sum- 
mer, Mc*ssrs.  Harper,  Mc(Juesten  cV  Mayo  established  a 
|>ost  at  the  mouth  of  that  river.  During  the  winter 
which  followed  there  was  a  shortage  of  provisions,  and 
the  little  camp  of  seventy  or  eighty  men  was  on  the 
verge  of  starvation.  The  cause  of  the  shortage  at  Stew- 
art River  was  the  repf)rt,  brought  to  Stewart  River  just 
before  the  river  closed,  that  iOitrsi\i^oiii\\:n\  been  discov- 

237 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

ered  on  "Shitanda"  Creek  (a  corruption  of  the  Indian 
name  **Zit-zen-duk"),  now  called  Forty-Mile,  from  its 
having  been  estimated  to  be  that  distance  from  old  Fort 
Reliance.  It  was  late  in  the  fall  when  the  report  came 
that  Mickey  O'Brien,  Jim  Adams,  and  two  others,  by 
the  name  «»f  Lambert  and  Franklin,  had  found  coarse 
gold.  A  stampede  for  the  new  tlij^jijin^s  folh)wed,  for 
the  miner  does  not  bother  with  fine  gold  when  he  can 
get  coarse  gold.  Those  miners  who  thought  they  had 
not  enough  supplies  for  the  winter  bought  all  the  trader 
would  sell  them  and  started  for  Forty-Mile.  It  was  the 
late  comers  frt>m  up  river  who  suffered  in  consequence. 

A  letter  with  the  news  of  the  find  started  out  from 
Stewart  River  in  January,  carried  by  a  man  named  Will- 
iams, with  an  Indian  boy  and  three  dogs.  On  the  sum- 
mit of  Chilkoot  they  were  overtaken  by  a  storm,  and 
were  buried  for  three  days  in  the  snow.  When  the  st<»rm 
abated  Williams  could  not  walk,  and  was  carried  on  the 
back  of  the  Indian  boy  four  miles  to  Sheep  Camp, 
whence  he  was  sledded  into  Dyea  by  some  Indians,  and 
died  in  the  store  of  Captain  John  J.  Healey.  The  dogs 
were  never  seen  again.  The  miners  congregated  from 
all  parts  to  know  what  had  brought  the  man  out,  for  the 
winter  journey  was  considered  almost  certain  death. 
The  Indian  boy,  picking  up  a  handful  of  beans,  said, 
**GoId  all  same  like  this."  The  excitement  was  intense, 
and  that  spring  over  two  hundred  miners  poured  in  over 
the  pass  to  Forty-Mile. 

The  winter  was  a  season  of  enforced  idleness.  The 
spring  freshet  at  one  end  and  freezing  at  the  other  short- 
ened the  working  season  to  about  sixty-five  days,  during 
which  time  an  average  of  eight  or  ten  dollars  a  day  had 
to  be  made  for  the  next  year's  grub-stake.  Every  man 
was  a  prospector  and  a  hard  worker,  skilled  at  boating, 

238 


11.. 


V 


H*-  \ 


•til  t^  t <    ^  al      ^»       •»     •?  J  • 


11 


»'t 


i 


4 


."«! 


vr,  f^  •  ^/  i 


II.    »        I      ^•mt^-U 


DISCOVERY    OF    FORTY-MILE 

accuslome<l  to  hardship,  rouj^h,  yet  ji^eneroiis  to  his  fel- 
lows. One  custom  in  particular  that  shows  this  feeling 
was  that  when  the  ist  of  Auj^ust  came,  any  who  had 
failed  to  locate  a  paying  claim  were  given  permission  to 
go  upon  the  claims  of  such  as  had  struck  it  and  to  take 
out  enoujjh  for  the  next  season's  outfit.  This  peaceable 
condition  in  general  characterized  the  Yukon. 

Forty-Mile,  unlike  other  streams  that  had  been  pros- 
pected, proved  to  be  what  the  miners  call  a  ** bed-rock" 
creek — that  is,  l)ed-rock  came  to  or  quite  near  the  sur- 
face. Then  Franklin  (iulch,  tributary  of  Forty -Mile, 
was  discovered  ;  in  the  bed  of  the  small  brook  the  gold 
was  found  under  several  feet  of  gravel.  Other  tributa- 
ries of  Forty-Mile  were  afterwards  discovered,  all  w  itii 
good  pay. 

In  the  spring  of  iSS6  the  traders  removed  to  Forty- 
Mile,  and  the  rich  diggings  of  that  region  were  devel- 
oped, with  the  post  for  a  base  of  operations;  in  1S93  on 
Sixty -Mile,  and  in  1894  on  Birch  Creek,  placers  even 
richer  than  those  on  Foi-ty-Mile  were  discovered. 

With  the  discovery  of  coarse  gold,  sluice-l)oxes  were 
introduced,  though  the  rocker  continued  in  common  use. 
Thus  far  the  frozen  condition  of  the  ground  was  the 
greatest  ol>stacle  to  mining.  The  sun's  rays,  wherever 
they  reachetl,  were  sufficient  to  thaw  a  ftH)t  or  so  each 
day,  and  each  day  the  miners  would  remove  the  thawed 
dirt.  In  this  manner  bed-rock  on  Forty -Mile,  which 
was  rather  shallow,  could  be  reached  in  one  seas4»n. 
Thawing  the  ground  with  fire  had  l)een  thought  of,  but 
the  idea  was  put  to  no  practical  use.  Its  possibilities 
were  discovered  in  a  curious  way.  x\t  Franklin  (lulch. 
in  1887,  Fred  Hutchinson  (now  of  7  Eldorado)  was  fol- 
lowing a  pay  streak  which  extended  under  water,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  leave  olT  work.  That  winter,  however, 
«  .  241 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMPEDE 

after  the  ice  had  formed,  it  orcurrcd  tt)  him  to  t  hop  the 
surface  of  the  ice  over  the  s|>ot  he  wanted  to  work,  hut 
taking  care  not  to  break  throuj^h.  As  the  ice  fro/.e 
downwards  he  kept  on  choppimj.  until  he  reached  the 
bed  of  the  stream,  thus  having  built  a  sort  of  cotlcr-dam 


STAR  TINT.    A    HOLE 


of  ice,  which  kept  the  water  out  of  the  h<)le.  Hutchin- 
son built  a  fire  on  the  ground,  and  t<Kjk  out  a  little  pay 
dirt.  His  neighl)ors  observed  his  freakish  U!idertaking 
and  laughe<l  at  him.  But  the  t\)lIowing  year  twtn»f  them 
made  fires  on  the  ground,  and,  the  diggings  being  shal- 
low, took  out  considerable  dirt.  These  first  efforts  were 
necessarily  crude,  but  they  demonstrated  that  ground 
might  be  worked  which  the  sun's  rays  could  not  reach. 
In  any  event,  it  was  a  great  leap  forward,  as  twelve 
months*  work  was  now  jxissible  instead  of  only  two  as 

242 


ii 


BURXIXC;"    DISCOVKKEI) 


before.  Some,  however,  did  not  take  kindly  to  this, 
and  they  said,  "  It's  as  bad  now  inside  as  outsiife— 
work  winter  and  summer."  After  havinj^  reached  bed- 
rock, the  next  step  was  to  tunnel  or  drift  alonj;  it. 
This  was  first  done  by  O.  C.  Miller  on  Forty-Mile,  but 
Miller  only  drifted  to  prospect  a  claim  whi<  h  he  intended 
to  work  the  following;  summer.  From  that  lime  on  win- 
ter work  became  more  j^eneral,  and  the  dccin-r  dii^j^inj^s 
were  reserved  for  that  season.  As  deeper  jjround  couM 
be  worked  out  by  drifting  than  by  the  old  way,  the  term 
**  winter  dij^j^ings  "  has  come  to  mean  gn^und  too  deep 
to  work  by  open  summer  work. 

The  art  of  driftinij,  however,  was  not  generally  under- 
stood until  two  r.r  three  years  before  the  Kl«>ndike  dis- 
covery, and  so  much  more  is  l)eing  learncil  that  it  may 
truthfully  be  said  that  it  has  taken  the  s<*cond  year  at 
Klondike  to  develop  the  Yukon  **  placer  e.\|K-rt." 

In  the  creeks  of  Kl«>nilike,  as  f:i^  as  they  have  l)een 
prosj)ected,  the  g«»ld  is  known  to  l)e  f«»und  in  two  situa- 
tions. First  on  and  in  l)ed  -  nxk  in  the  beds  of  the 
creeks,  covered  by  fn»m  twelve  to  fifty  feet  of  gravel  and 
muck  ;  sect)ndly,  on  the  sides  t)f  the  creeks,  either  at  a 
uniform  elevation  of  about  two  hundred  feet  over  the 
present  stream,  being  the  remains  of  a  former  stream- 
bcnl,  or  else  at  lower  elevations,  where  the  gold-bearing 
dirt  has  slid  down.  These  hill-side  claims  were  unknown 
in  the  Yukon  at  the  time  of  the  Klondike  discovery. 

At  least  two  men  are  required  to  work  a  creek  claim 
in  winter.  Thirty  cords  of  \\\xk\  are  retjuired  for  the 
winter's  burnings  of  two  men.  The  wo<h1.  which  grows 
in  the  valleys  and  on  the  hill-sitles,  is  either  pnK-ured  in 
the  summer  or  fall  before  drifting  begins,  or  as  needed 
from  day  to  day.  Drifting  l)egins  in  late  Scpteml)er,  as 
soon  as  the  surface  water  of  the  creeks  is  in  a  measure 

243 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


dried  up  by  the  frost.  Contrary  to  a  prevailing:  notion, 
the  cokler  the  weather,  the  better  tor  winter  work. 
When  the  miner  is  ready  to  plaee  his  first  fire,  he  judj^es 
as  Well  as  he  ean  where  the  pay  streak  is.  but  in  this  he 
hxs  al)s<>lutelv  no  surface  indications  to  ijuide  him.     The 

present  stream  winds 
from  side  to  side  of  the 
valley,  and  the  old 
stream  underneath,  in 
which  the  ^old  is  fi»und. 
apparently  tlid  the  same; 
but  the  windinj^s  t»f  the 
one  afford  no  clew  to  the 
windinj^s  of  the  «»ther. 
A  hole  must  Ik'  put  ilown 
simi)ly  at  randoni,  as  a 
jjunner  Hres  a  first  shot 
to  determine  the  rauije. 
When  the  shaft  has 
reached  l>etl  -  r«K'k,  the 
direction  in  which  the 
f»W  creek  lies  is  usually  told  by  the  '*  dip,"  or  slant,  of  the 
bed-rm^k,  so  the  miner  drifts  in  that  direction  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet,  which  is  as  far  as  it  is  profitable  to  <lraij  the 
dirt.  Great  difficulty  is  experienced  in  securini;  drauj^ht 
for  the  fire  in  the  first  drift.  If  the  pay  streak  is  not 
reached  in  the  first  drift,  a  .second  hole  is  put  ilown  thirty 
or  more  feet  from  the  first  and  the  tlrittinj;  continued 
until  the  pay  streak  is  found. 

Then  the  pay  j^ravel  is  drifted  out,  a  hole  twenty  by 
thirty  feet  beinjj  tiften  excavated,  the  roof  Ixini;:  in  such 
cases  supported  by  timl)ers.  The  surface  indications  are 
further  deceitful  in  that  a  slide  of  the  mountain  may  have 
filled  in  the  side  of  the  creek,  coverinj^  enlirtly  the  Inrd 


SECTIOM  OF  A  SHAKf,  WINlKR  l»klKTIN«; 


WINTER    "DRIlTIXr." 

of  the  old  stream.  Even  on  a  rich  creek  the  ^olil  is  not 
evenly  distributetl.  Koiijjjh,  l>roken  iRMl-rock  hukls  the 
jjtild  l)etter  than  smooth,  over  which  the  ^old  appears  to 
have  lK*en  carried  without  loil^in^.  The  common  man- 
ner t»f  **  proving  "  a  claim  consists  of  sinkinjjj  to  bed-rock, 
and  driftinjj  <m  bed-rtx-k  across  the  creek;  but  if  the  creek 
iiihould  l)c  **spottetl,"  it  may  be  necessary  to  **  cross-cut  " 
more  than  once.  When  the  pay  streak  has  l>een  found 
it  is  followe<l  by  a  series  of  holes  and  tlrifts  up  and  down. 
In  order  to  know  when  he  is  on  the  pay  streak  the  miner 
each  day  (f)erhaps  several  times  a  day)  takes  one  or 
more  pans  of  din  from  the  hole  and  pans  it  out  in  a 
wiKxlen  tank  of  water  in  the  cabin,  carefully  weij;;hin^ 
the  gold  thus  found.  If  he  has  rtve  cents  to  the  pan  it 
may  pay  to  work,  but  only  in  summer.  Ten  cents  to  the 
pan  is  considered  pay  for  winter  work ;  twenty-tive  cents 
is  verv  rich.     But  this  means  ttirnro'  dirt.     Miners  often 


ir«f.\L  ri.\N  OF  (JIC1.K  ci_.\iy,  miowin<;  rflahox  of  r.%Y  sfrfak 

TO  CKKKK   BF.I> 


deceive  themselves  by  not  averaginp:  the  dirt,  and  find 
on  cleaninjj  up  that  they  have  not  the  quantity  of  gold 
in  their  dump  that  they  ".xpected. 

Formerly  the  first  fire  was  placed  on  the  muck,  but 

245 


THE    KLONDIKl-:    STAMIMCDE 

on  account  of  there  bclnp:  s<>  much  water  in  the  muck 
it  was  very  sl«nv  work,  and  it  has  been  found  IkiIct  to 
pick  the  muck.  The  hole  is  al)out  four  hy  six  or  seven 
feet,  and  is  made  true  and  square.  When  the  hole  has 
reached  a  depth  at  which  the  dirt  cannot  l>e  shovelled 


IDEAL  SECTION   SHOWI.NG   HOW   .\  CI_\IM    Is   **eK«»>s-im" 


out,  a  windla.s.^  made  of  a  spruce  locj  six  inehes  thick 
and  four  and  a  half  feet  I<>njj,  and  resting;  on  tw«>  p»»sts 
about  four  feet  hijjh,  is  set  over  the 'hole,  and  the  <iirt 
is  hoistetl  in  a  wooiIen  bucket  which  holds  aN)ut  ciijht 
pans  of  dirt.  One  hundred  buekets  a  day  is  a  jj«mhI 
day's  work.*  The  fire  is  put  in  at  niy^ht  and  in  the 
morning  the  smoke  has  surficiently  cleared  to  allow  a 
man  to  go  into  the  h«»le.  The  smoke  is  verv  trvinij  to 
the  eyes,  and  not  infrequently  gases  in  the  hole  have 
overcome  and  killed  the  miner.  As  the  heij^ht  <»f  the 
dump  increases  the  windlass  is  raised  on  crilvwork,  so  as 
to  be  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  the  dump.  When  the 
pay  gravel  has  been  found,  it  is  carefully  placet!  by  it- 

♦  At  ten  cents  per  i>;in.  loo  huckrts  <Soo  r>;m.s)=r<Uvo  per  Aaw  or 
S40  per  man.  which  rntist  p.iy  for  all  "dead  "  work — cabin-build- 
ing, wood-cutting.  frcij;htin)»  supplies,  sluicing,  etc. 


LOCATING    THE    "PAY    STRKAK* 

self.  Drifting^  continues  until  May,  when  usually  the 
surface  water  runs  in  and  puts  out  the  tires.  It  oftt-n 
happens  that  work  is  hindered  from  that  cause  all  win- 
ter, while  there  may  be  s{)ots,  at  the  side  of  the  jiresent 
stream,  where  burninjj  can  be  continued  all  summer. 

In  April  anti  May  preparations  are  bei^un  to  sluice  the 
dumps,  by  building  a  dam  e.\actly  as  for  summer  sluic- 
injj.     The  water  is  led  in  a  three-f«>ot  rtume  al^njj  the 


'^' 


in    . 

r. 


4 


^^ssmautbt^mm 


A   DCMP,  WITH   A   WIMiLA^S   R.\l>k.I>  oN  CKlU-WnRK 


side  of  the  claim,  and  at  intervals  tapped  by  cross  lines 
i>f  sluice-boxes,  one  leadinjj  past  each  dump;  ami  when 
the  sun  has  thawetl  the  dumps  the  dirt  is  shovclleil  in,  a 
process  which  will  be  described  in  detail  later. 

To  sink  a  hole  requires  twenty  to  thirty  days,  an<l  it 
may  be  necessary  to  put  down  a  half-d«»zcn  holes  or 
more  before  the  {>ay  is  found.  Thus  a  wht»le  seas4»n's 
work  may  be  put  in  without  locating  the  pay,  even  when 

247 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  claim  is  rich,  or  they  may  be  so  fortunate  as  to  strike 
pay  in  the  first  hole. 

Instead  of  risking  all  on  a  new  claim  in  an  iinilevcl- 
opetl  creek, many  c>f  the  nevv-ci)mers  prcfLTred  to  cither 
work  for  wa^es  on  the  developed  creeks,  or  to  take 
what  is  called  a  "  lay" — a  lease  for  one  year  of  a  section 
fifty  feet  wide  across  the  creek — the  conditions  l>ein}^ 
to  sink  to  bed-rock,  drift  on  bed-rt>ck  to  the  pay  and  to 
the  edges  of  the  section,  fi>r  a  |>ercentav;e  varying  from 
fifty  to  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  the  proceeds.  This  is 
unsatisfactory  to  the  **lavmen,"  for  the  reason  that  the 
claim  may  be  '•spotted,"  and  no  **  pay  "  in  so  small  a 
secti<»n,  and  because  the  wh«»le  season's  work  may  not 
locale  the  pay  even  when  it  is  there.  The  custom  is 
growinjj  in  disfavor  with  owners  also,  as  a  season's  un- 
successful work  diminishes  the  value  of  the  claim,  which 
would  otherwise  have  at  least  a  sf>eculative  value. 

A**layman,"  when  he  finds  the  pay  streak,  may  turn  to 
and  hire  men  payable  on  "  bed-n>ck,"  that  is,  at  the  clean- 
up. S»me  lays  are  jjranted  guaranteeing  wages  of  $15 
per  day,  in  case  the  prinluct  sh«»uld  not  l>e  as  large  as  wa> 
expected — that  is,  the  wages  are  a  first  lien  on  the  output. 

For  a  concise  statement  of  the  methods  that  have 
been  employed  during  the  first  year  of  Klondike,  as  well 
as  the  ci>st  of  developing  a  claim,  \xtlh  winter  and  sum- 
mer diggings,  I  cannot  do  better  than  to  cpiote  a  state- 
ment made  by  Alexander  McDonald,  to  accompany  a 
petition  sent  by  the  miners  to  the  Governor-Cicneral  of 
Canada,  in  December,  1^97.* 


*  Apf^al  of  VMkon  Mintn  to  tkt-  Dominion  0/  Coniiifii.  and  in- 

(id^Mtaliy  souu  Aiiounf  of  th<r  Mtncs  onJ  Minini^  of  .Uttskit  on,f 

ikg  Provisional  Diitrict  of  the  Yukon,  fHjblished  as  a  hand-book  of 

•  123  paj^t^  for  distribution  amonv;  members  of  Parliainrnt  by  M. 

Ldindrcvillc,  A.  E.  Wills,  and  Edward  J.  Livernash.  comniiltt-c. 


A    MINKRS    STATEMENT 

•*  I,  Alexander  M<  DonaM.  cl<>  sfjlemnly  declare;  Thai  I  am  a 
resident  of  the  Klondike  Mining  Division  i>f  Uic  Yukon  Distriit. 
Northwest  Territories.  I>i)minion  of  Canada. 

"  That  I  am  a  holder  of  several  placer-mininj;  claims  in  said 
district,  both  in  the  Klondike  and  Indian  tlivisions  thereof. 

-That  I  am  a  miner  by  «x:cu[>;ition.  Stncc  ilv*So  I  have  been 
engaged  in  the  business  of  mining,  having  mined  within  that 
pcrio<l  in  Colorado,  on  IXjuglas  Island,  in  the  Forty-Mile  Divi- 
sion of  the  Yukon  Dislriel;  and.  since  September.  lS</>.  in  the 
Klondike  and  Indian  divisions  of  the  Yukon  district.  My  ex- 
|ierience  has  been  mainly  conlmcd  to  dealing  with  the  prcci«>us 
metals,  gold  especially. 

•*  That  in  s;iid  Yukon  District  I  have  had  experience  at  mining 
for  gold  in  summer  and  winter,  have  worked  in  and  had  charge 
of  placer-mines,  and  am  familiar  with  meth<*ds  pursued  in  said 
di>trict.  the  cost  of  mining  therein,  and  ihc  yield  in  general  of 
the  mineral  belt  thereof. 

"That  what  is  kmiwn  in  s;iid  district  as  'summer  work*  begins 
in  June  and  ends  about  the  middle  of  September.  Not  much  is 
accomplished  in  June,  and  the  Se|>teml>er  work  is  uncertain. 

"The  •  summer  work  '  consists  in  opening  pits  or  cuts  (open- 
cast mining)  and  sluicing  the  gravel. 

♦  «  •  •  •  •  * 

-  That  all  of  the  deposits  between  moss  and  the  lowest-known 
pay  point  is  frozen  throughout  the  year,  and  this  necessitates  ex- 
posing surfaces  for  thawmg  by  the  sun's  heal  in  summer  work- 
ing, and  leads  to  corresponding  slowness  and  difficulty  in  the 
working  of  pit*.  The  muck  thaws  three  inches  a  day,  on  an 
average  ;  the  gravel,  about  ten  inches. 

"That  my  experience  in  mining  in  said  district,  and  my  obser- 
vation of  the  mining  by  others  in  s.iid  district,  convinces  me  that 
an  effective  bed-n>ck  drji'tn  on  Ik)nan/a  Creek  would  have  to  be 
at  least  2000  feet  long ;  on  Eldorado  Creek,  1000  feet. 

-That  there  arc  not  any  steam -pumps  in  the  district  afore- 
said, nor  any  electrical  appliances  whate\er  for  use  in  drainage 
of  summer  pits.  The  rule  is  for  the  claims  to  be  drained  by 
hand-pumps  of  the  most  primitive  order. 

249 


THE    KLONDIKi:    STAMPKDK 

"  There  Is  not  enoiijjh  water  available  on  more  than  a  few 
claims  to  run  water- j)ower  pumps. 

"  That  the  grade  of  the  known  creeks  of  said  district  is  so  slight 
that  in  damming  water  to  a  heij^ht  requisite  for  ordinar)*  sluicing 
water  is  backed  200  feet. 

**That  during  the  past  season  of  *  summer  work  '  $1.50  an  hour 
was  the  univers,d  price  o(  ordinary  unskilled  labor  in  this  district. 
The  better  laborers  commanded  $2  an  hour.  The  working  day 
averaged  ten  hours  of  labor. 


BrtMNG ' 


"  That  the  cost  of  lumber  undressed  averaged  40  cents  a  board 
foot  on  the  claims. 

•*  That,  as  an  average.  100  sluice-boxes  are  used  on  every  claim 
worked  as  summer  diggings,  with  dimensions  as  follows  :  Length, 
12  feet:  at  top.  10  by  11  inches;  at  bottom,  10  by  13  inches;  the 
10  in  each  instance  representing  depth. 

"That  72  sets  of  block  riffles  per  claim  are  used  during  the 

2y> 


COST  OF  uevkloimnm;  a  claim 

summer  season,  as  claims  arc  worked  at  present  in  said  district, 
and  these  cost  an  averaj^e  of  S5  a  set. 

"  That  the  cost  of  sluice-boxes,  ritHes  not  included,  averages 
$25  ii  box. 

"That  the  cost  of  scttinjj  a  line  of  sluice-boxes,  and  keeping 
said  lines  set  during  the  summer,  averages  $2000. 

••That  the  cost  of  buiUling  a  rough  dam  sutricieni  for  the  or- 
dinary working  of  the  average  5oofoot  claim  in  said  district  is 
about  $1000. 

••  That  the  ci>st  of  constructing  a  waste  ditch  on  Claim  No.  50 
Eldorado  (one  of  the  claims  of  which  1  am  a  holder)  was  about 
$I2ool     I  think  it  an  average  ditch. 

-That  the  cost  of  handling  the  dirt,  'summer  working."  from 
the  ground-sluicing  to  the  clean-up.  averages  (bbor  bills)  $5  a 
cubic  yard  on  the  entire  quantity  moved. 

"That  the  cost  of  pumping  for' drainage  of  summer  pits  400 
feet  long  by  30  feet  wide  averages  $72  jK:r  twenty-four  hours. 

"That  wheclb.irrows  cost  $25  apiece;  shovels.  $3.50  aj)itMe; 
mattocks.  $3  apiece:  blacksmiths'  portable  forges,  about  $joo 
apiece;  average-weight  grindstones,  about  §35  apiece;  liainim"r>. 
60  cents  a  pound;  saws,  $5-30  apic^re ;  nails.  40  cents  a  {M>und  ; 
rope,  30  cents  a  pound ;  gold-scales  of  average  cajucity.  $50  a 
pair;  quicksilver.  $1.23  a  pound;  black  powder,  $1.23  a  p«>und; 
fu  .c.  2\  cents  a  fool. 

"That  what  is  known  in  said  district  as  'winter  work  '  begins 
in  September  and  ends  late  in  July.  In  September  the  work  is 
preparatory  to  sinking  and  drifting.  After  May  ist  it  is  wholly 
sluicing. 

"That  said  •winter  work'  is  what  is  known  as  drift-mining. 

"That  because  of  the  frozen  character  of  the  dirt  afores.iid.  it 
is  the  practice  to  thaw  the  dirt  to  be  handletl,  first  by  means  of 
wood  fires  to  release  it  from  the  bre.isls  for  hoisting  it  to  the 
surface,  and  again  by  means  of  the  spring  sun's  heat  to  free  the 
gold  in  sluicing. 

"That  a  lire  banked  25  feet  in  length  by  2i  feet  in  height. one- 
half  a  cord  of  w<x>d  being  used,  thaws  aUiUt  3  cubic  yards  of 
gravel  as  it  lies  in  the  deposit. 

251 


TIIK    KLOXDIKK    STAMIMCDK 

"That  the  wockI  used  for  siiih  fuel  costs  at  an  average  $25  a 
coni,  delivered  at  the  inoulli  of  the  shaft. 

"That  the  cost  of  sinkini;  nntiintx:red  shafts  4X(*  feet,  surface 
dimensions,  is  alxjut  $10  a  fiK)t. 

"  That  the  cost  of  handlinj^  dirt  from  shaft-sinkini;  to  clean- 
up, •  winter  work.'  averages  (lalK)r  bill>»  $12  a  cubic  yanl. 

"That  in  drift -mininj^  in  said  district  it  is  imj)ossJble,  with 
present  melho<is.  |)ro|)erIy  to  clean  up  iho  bed-rtx:k,  and.  in 
that  the  richest  pay  is  on  bed-rock  or  in  bed-rock,  great  losses 
ensue. 

"That  the  cost  of  a  cabin  12x14  feet,  ground  dimensions,  is 
about  $600.     Such  cabin  ordinarily  hou>es  three  niiners. 

"That  in  summer  it  costs  25  to  }o  cents  a  poun<l  f«)r  transpor- 
tation of  supplies  from  Dawson  to  the  mouth  of  Khiorado  Creek  ; 
fifteen  miles  to  the  thirty-sixth  claim  alKjve  the  nn>uih  of  Kldo- 
rado  Creek,  and  on  Siiid  creek.  35  cents;  to  the  ihirty-lifih  claim 
above  Discover)-  on  Honanza  Creek,  35  cents;  to  Hunker  Creek, 
50  cents. 

"That  in  winter  it  costs  10  cents  a  pound  for  transj»ortation  of 
supplies  from  Davv:»on  t«)  the  mouth  of  Eldorado  Creek,  and 
other  distances  proportionately." 

The  above  sufficiently  shows  that,  while  Klondike  mines 
are  **poor  men's"  mines,  in  the  sense  of  bcin-^j  placer- 
deposits,  still,  when  not  only  the  ex{K'nse  of  reachinj^  the 
coimtry,  btit  the  cost  of  livinijj  while  there,  and  the  cost 
of  workinj;  the  mines  is  considered,  the  Klondike  is  not 
a  poor  mans  ionntry. 


CHAPTKR  XIII 

Fir\t  View  of  ihc  Mines — An  I'.arly  St.irt — lUi^y  S.ene  in  lUtiun/a  C'rtH-k 
—The  (iranU  Forks  —  A  Miner's  Hotel  —  Kir«.l  Inipressi»»ns  of  Kl- 
«l«»ra<lt>— Ni^ht  with  a  Mimr — How  I)»»cs  it  Fed  to  l>c  a  "  Million- 
aire"?— What  is  a  llaini  Worth? — l':il»in  Fife  in  the  Mines — Te- 
luiiarities  o(  OKI-tinters — What  the  Miners  Think  of  Klontlike 


T  was  the  mornings  of 
Thanks<4i\i!iv^  Hay,  the 
25th  of  XovcmlRT.  The 
nii;ht  l)efore  we  hail 
cooked  enough  tlough- 
nuts  to  last  two  men 
a  week,  and  threw 
them  into  an  old  tele- 
Si*ope  valise,  alonjj  with  a  junk  of  bacon  and  tea  and 
su^ar,  for  .one  pack,  and  tied  up  a  pair  of  t\vflve-j>ound 
blankets  into  another  pack,  ready  for  a  start  at  day- 
break on  our  tirst  trip  to  the  mines.  Our  camp  was  on 
what  was  known  as  claim  Xo.  97  A,  which  meant  that,  if 
no  mistake  had  been  made  in  numberintj  «)r  in  measur- 
injj,  there  were  ninety-seven  500 -foot  claims  between 
ours  and  Discovery  claim,  which  was  seven  claims  be- 
low the  "Grand  Forks**  of  Bonanza  and  Kldorado  creeks, 
which  is  the  heart  of  the  diijgings — a  mode  <^f  estimate 
in  this  instance  mislcadinyf,  owinj^f  to  numerous  short 
claims  and  one  ijap  of  five  whole  claims  l>etween  36  and 
42,  offset  somewhat,  however,  by  several  long  claims,  otT 

^53 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

which  fractions  over  and  alM)ve  said  500  feet  had  Ixcn 
taken  and  distinguished  by  the  addition  of  tlic  letter** A" 
to  the  claim  number.  The  actual  distance  to  the  F(»rks 
was  estimated  at  from  eleven  to  thirteen  miles,  accord- 
ing as  one  followed  the  sletl-trail  in  the  windini^s  of  the 
creek,  or  the  foot-trail,  which  cut  otT  the  hm^r  loops. 


CABINS  A.NI>   III  MPS  ^ 

It  was  hardly  dayli^jht  when  we  shouldered  our  re- 
spective packs  and  turned  up  the  trail.  The  air  was 
the  kind  which  hardens  (juicksilver  ;  so  we  started  ort 
at  a  lively  trot,  accordinj^  to  Yukon  custom,  and  then 
settled  down  to  a  four  or  five  mile  ^ait.  The  run  j»ut 
a  ^low  into  our  cheeks  and  a  warmth  into  our  botlirs, 
but  we  had  to  keep  rubbing  chin,  cheeks,  aiul  nose  to 
prevent   them    turninj;  while  and  hard — the  first  two 

254 


-  > 


> 


■J. 


*     > 


*s  r. 


<i 


FIRST    VIEW    OF    THE    MIXES 

indications  in  this  keen,  dry  air  that  they  are  fn>:!en.  For 
the  first  four  or  W\c  miles  hut  little  work  of  any  kind 
had  been  done — <»nly  an  mcasional  newly  built  cabin, 
or  a  crude  windlass  »>ver  a  black  hole  in  the  jjround 
which  still  emitted  smoke  from,  the  nij^ht's  fire.  One 
early  riser,  out  choppinjj  wo^kI  for  breakfast  fire,  Uwiketl 
at  us  curiously,  then  remarked,  "  Stampedin*?" — the  in- 
ference beiny^  that  two  men  with  packs  cominj^  at  that 
ijait  and  that  hour  fr»)m  the  direction  o(  town  had  re- 
ceived a  **  tip"  of  a  strike  somewhere.  When  we  reached 
the  **  Si.\ties"  beK>w,  we  came  suddenly  ujHin  a  row  of 
cabins,  antl  heaps  of  dirt  with  windlasses  on  top.  The 
day'.*  work  had  just  bei^un,  ami  sleepy  men  in  Mack- 
inaws  and  oUI  doth  "|>arkies,'*  canvas  mittens,  with  faces 
muHled  and  feet  wrap|>ed  in  sacking  (the  working  miner 
cares  little  al)out  l<K>ks,  though  doubtless  many  wore 
them  for  the  sake  of  economy),  had  lK*gun  to  turn  creak- 
ing windlasses,  hoisting  dirt  out  of  the  holes.  Others 
were  busy  sawing  wootl  with  long,  single  cross-cut  saws, 
the  slender  blackened  poles  of  spruce.  cottonwt>od,  and 
birch  being  laid  on  a  long  **  horse,"  having  pegs  each 
side  to  keep  the  pole  from  rolling  off.  The  first  early 
travellers  were  coming  down  the  trail.  I  shall  not  for- 
get this  first  sight.  A  heavy  bank  of  smoke  from  the 
night's  fires  hung  over  the  valley,  and  the  air  was  la- 
den with  the  smell  of  burned  wood.  More  cabins  and 
smoking  dumps  ;  then  strings  of  cabin.s,  first  on  one 
side,  then  on  the  other,  the  trail  growing  like  the  street 
of  a  village  in  which  there  were  only  men.  Other  men 
on  the  hill-sides  were  dragging  down  small  poles  for  the 
fires,  streaking  the  white  snow  with  black. 

We  hurried  on,  clambering  over  dumps,  now  shuffling 
along  the  smooth,  pr>li>hed  sled-trail,  hardly  comprehend- 
ing the  strange,  weird  sight.     Three  hours  from  camp 
•     R  257 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

we  stood  at  the  forks  of  Bonanza  anil  EUlt^ratlo.  The 
sight  was  one  never  to  Ik?  forgotten.  The  sun.  like  a 
deep-ret!  Kill  in  a  red  glow,  hung  in  the  notch  of  Eldo- 
rado ;  the  smoke  settling  tlown  like  a  fog  (for  the  evening 
fires  were  starting);  m  ?n  on  the  high  dumps  like  s[H.-ct res 
in  the  half-smoke,  half  mist  ;  faint  outlines  of  S4x»res  <»f 
cabins;  the  creaking  oi  windlasses — altogciher  a  s<.ene 
more  suggestive  of  the  infernal  regions  than  any  s|x>t 
on  earth.  It  was  hard  t)  l)elieve  that  this  was  the  spot 
towards  which  all  the  world  was  Kxjking.  Little  more 
than  a  year  ago  this  wi  derness,  nuw  peopled  by  s<.>me 
thousands  of  white  men  resounded  only  ti>  the  wt>lf's 
howl  and  the  raven's  hollow  i/oni\  Well  might  one  gaze 
in  wonder,  whether  an  old  Calif«>rnia  miner  t>r  one  who 
had  never  before  seen  men  dig  gold,  for  the  world  had 
seen  nothing  like  this. 

At  the  side  of  Bonanza  Creek,  where  one  c<»uld  Ux)k 
into  Eldorado,  was  a  settlement  of  twenty  or  more  cab- 
ins, some  <Kxupied  by  miners,  others  used  for  hotels  and 
various  purposes,  but  no  sti>res  or  places  of  amusement, 
everything  being  hauled  or  arried  up  from  town,  and 
the  miners  going  to  Dawson  for  recreation.  One  hotel, 
known  as  the  ** Grand  Forks'  of  which  a  Miss  Belinda 
Mulrooney  was  proprietress,  was  evidently  well  supplied 
with  ftxnl  and  refreshments,  ;.nd  meals  could  be  had 
there,  served  on  a  clean  table -c?c)th  with  china  tli>hes, 
for  $3.50  each,  or  $12  a  day  for  mea's  and  bed.  IVlletier 
ran  upon  a  one-time  dog-driver  from  the  north  shore  of 
Lake  Superior,  one  Madden,  who  was  here  keeping  a 
hotel.  Just  now  the  proprietor  of  the  **  Hotel  Madden," 
like  most  of  the  other  new-comers,  was  out  of  b«>th  pro- 
visions and  whiskey,  and  was  debating  whether  he  should 
not  have  to  go  ** outside"  for  more. 

We  were  made  welcome  to  the  best  in  the  house — 

25« 


•    4 


•  •.  • 


- — J — -^^ 


VILW   OK    EUM»R.%lM»   L<H->kl\«;    IV   KR«>M    Mol  l||   oF    KKLNCll  CULCII 


AT    THK    **(;RANr)    FORKS' 

namely,  the  use  of  a  chair,  a  tal)Ie,  a  stove  for  cookinj^. 
and  a  place  on  the  rt(M»r  to  spread  a  blanket.  The  hotel 
was  a  two-storied  h)^  Iniildin^,  about  25  x  ^;o  feet,  a  single 
room  below,  with  a  ladder  to  reach  up-stairs.  A  larjje 
heatinjTf- stove  stood  in  the  mitldle  o(  the  floor,  a  cot)k- 
inj;-Stove  and  a  long  bare  table  at  the  other  end.  In 
one  comer  was  what  is  even  more  essential  than  a  dining- 
room  to  a  Yukon  hotel — the  bar,  a  narrow  counter  of 
spruce  boards,  back  of  which  on  a  shelf  stood  several 
long  black  Nettles,  one  of  which,  it  was  announced  gloom- 
ily, still  containe<l  a  little  rum,  the  house's  entire  stock 
of  liquid  refreshment.  The  walls  were  further  deci>rat- 
ed  with  some  colored  lithographs  and  cigarette  photo- 
graphs. 

As  a  little  daylight  remained,  we  left  our  blanket 
and  ran  over  to  Eldorado,  wending  our  way  among  the 
dumps — amatter  of  considerable  dithculty  to  the  stranger 
who  tries  to  take  a  "cut-off."  We  made  direct  ft)r  a  cabin. 
one  of  several  on  the  right  hand,  on  Claim  No.  5.  one  of 
the  first  cabins  built  on  the  creek,  and  first  occuf>ied  by 
Clarence  Berry.  Berry  was,  as  we  knew,  in  San  Fran- 
cisco with  the  $130,000  which  he  took  out  with  him  and 
showed, in  the  window  of  his  hotel,  to  wonder-struck  thou- 
sands. But  Frank,  his  brother,  was  there,  superintending 
the  claim,  doing  his  own  house-work  entirely  alone,  and 
feeling  rather  lonesome  in  consecpience  ;  so  it  hap{)ene<l 
that  before  we  had  talked  half  that  we  wanted  to  say  it 
was  past  time  for  starting,  and  we  were  bidden  to  remain 
for  supj^er.  Our  host,  with  commendable  dexterity,  but 
no  small  amount  of  grumbling  at  the  troubles  of  bachelor 
life,  set  before  us,  on  a  bare  spruce  table,  a  most  grate- 
ful meal  of  stewed  corn  ami  tomatoes  and  beef-steak,  the 
two  first -mentioned  articles  lK*ing  served,  as  was  also 

the  milk  for  our  coffee,  in  the  original  tins.     This  "mill- 

261 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMPED!: 

lonaire's"  cabin — if  one  may  speak  of  the  half-owner  of 
Nos.  4,  5,  and  6  Eldorado  and  other  claims  as  a  million- 
aire— was  about  i  j  X  i6  feet,  with  a  small  window  at  each 
side,  and  the  rear  partitioned  off  for  a  sleeping-apart- 
ment bv  a  screen  of  calico.  The  furniture  consisted  of 
the  aforesaid  table,  one  or  two  home-made  chairs  or 
stools,  and  two  very  rickety  bedsteads,  all  of  unplaned 
lumber.  A  sheet -iron  stove  stood  bv  the  door,  and  !)e- 
side  it  the  stjuare  "panning"  tank  oi  dirty  water.  Fry- 
ing-pans and  other  cooking  utensils  hung  on  nails  be- 
hind the  stove.  Near  one  window  was  a  shelf,  on  which 
stood  a  small  glass  kerosene  lamp,  a  small  gold-scale,  and 
a  copper  **  blower.**  The  ceiling  was  covered  with  calico ; 
this  and  a  bit  of  curtain  at  the  windows  marked  it  as 
a  woman's  cabin,  something  nicer  than  a  rough  miner 
would  provide  for  himself :  in  fact,  there  is  a  bit  of  ro- 
mance here,  *)f  a  winter's  trip,  a  new  bride,  and  nuggets 
by  the  pocketful. 

\Vc  talked  into  the  small  hours,  of  **  winter  diggings," 
**box  lengths/'  and  "  pay  streaks."  Herry  went  over  t»> 
Anton's  cabin  (Anton,  who  owns  one-half  the  so-called 
** Berry  claims")  and  brought  a  nugget  that  had  lately 
been  found.  It  was  a  beautiful  lump  of  gold,  flattish 
and  much  worn,  of  a  bright  "brassy"  coh>r,  intlicating 
a  large  alloy  of  silver.  Putting  it  on  the  gold-scales,  it 
weighed  a  Si^ant  fifteen  and  a  half  ounces,  antl  hail  been 
taken  from  a  "bench  "  just  outside  of  the  creek  claim. 

Twenty -five  men  were  at  work  on  claims  Xi>s.  4,  5. 
and  6,  and  a  fraction  5  A.  One  man  did  nothing  but  take 
one  panful  of  dirt  out  of  each  hole  two  or  three  times  a 
day.so  as  to  keep  on  the  pay  streak.  There  was  a  black- 
smith-shop for  sharpening  pieks,  which  wear  out  rapidly 
in  the  frozen  gn)und.  "  Is  Klondike  a  |MH.>r  man's  coun- 
try?" was,  of  course,  one  of  our  cjuestions.     The  reply  was 

3b2 


HOW    IT    FEELS   TO    BE  A   MILLIONAIRE 

more  emphatic  than  cle^jant.  Our  next  question  was,  **  Is 
the  ground  rich?**  ** There  is  one  dump  I  know  on  EId(»- 
rado  where  a  man  can  take  a  rocker  and  rock  out  §10,000 
in  a  day,  or  he  can  pan  §1000  in  f(»ur  pans.  Those  who 
have  high-grade  dirt  will  not  sell  for  less  than  from  §50,000 
to  §150,000.  The  *pay*  is  hard  to  follow,  it  pinches  out, 
and  we  have  to  follow  it  like  a  gopher-hole.  If  a  man 
could  only  uncv>ver  the  ground  !  I  came  here  and  liM)ked 
at  this  claim,  (loldhere?  Why,  I  see  a  lot  of  nice  trees 
sticking  out  of  the  ground  I  Twenty-five-dollar  nuggets 
are  common.  \Vc  have  a  thousand  dollars*  worth,  averag- 
ing §10,  that  came  out  of  our  first  cut.  Some  men  won't 
stay  at  work  at  any  wagc»s  when  they  see  the  ground. 
One  man  came  to  me  and  said  he  wanted  to  quit.  *  Aren't 
you  satisfied  ?'  '  Ves,  I'm  satisfied  with  you,  but  I  won't 
work  for  any  man  in  a  country  where  there  is  dirt  like 
thi.s,'  and  he  went  up  the  hill-side  and  began  sinking  a 
hole." 

Ne.xt  morning  we  ctmtinued  on  up  the  creek  for  a  dis- 
tance of  four  miles  to  the  junction  of  Chief  Gulch.  All 
the  way  up  was  the  same;  almost  every  claim  was  being 
worked.  Si>me  of  the  dumps  are  thirty  feet  high,  and 
evidently  on  the  ""pay,"  for  the  windlasses  are  already 
set  up  on  light  crib-work,  so  as  to  shove  the  dirt  well  to 
the  side  of  the  creek.  Paying  such  wages,  and  with  a 
ta.x  bedsides  of  20  per  cent,  over  them,  there  was  no  ques- 
tion that  the  claims  were  wt>nderfully  rich.  We  stopped 
at  several  cabins.  One  of  the  miners  expressed  the  feel- 
ing of  probably  a  good  many  of  the  new  "millionaires." 
**If  we  get  any  worse  we'll  all  be  crazy.  I  haven't  any- 
body to  laugh  with.  I  suppose  my  pe<^ple  at  home  feel 
pretty  good  —  never  had  anything  till  now."  Every- 
where we  stopped  we  were  received  with  a  miner's  cord- 
iality, and  given  the  best  the  camp  afforded.     On  No. 

363 


THE    KLONDIKi:    STAMPHDi: 

30  we  tumbled  into  a  hornets'  nest  unawares.  The  (ore- 
man  was  a  l)elhp:erent,  bullet-heailed  Irishman.  Hardly 
had  we  res|x>nded  to  his  **come  in,"  when,  learninjj  that 
we  were  newspaper  men,  he  turned  in  and  ^ave  us  Iiis 
opinion  of  the  newspapers  for  sending;  the  jn-ople  into 
this  country.  He  evitlenily  tcM>k  it  for  granted  we 
wanted  s|>eriHc  information  to  publisli,  and  tlierel^y  !)rinp 
more  people  into  the  country,  deceivinjj  them  as  to  the 
true  condition. 

**No/*  said  he,  **  I've  got  no  informashun.  I've  got  no 
informashun.  You  newspajHrrs  come  here  an<l  want  to 
know  how  much  we're  gittin' ;  and  if  I  tell  you  I'm  giltin* 
tin  dollars  to  the  pan  out  of  wan  hole,  you'll  go  and  say 
that  we're  gittin*  that  much  all  over  the  claim,  when 
there  is  a  hole  over  there  where  we're  only  gittin'  a  dol- 
lar to  the  pan." 

We  let  him  talk  on,  and  found  out  about  what  wc 
wanted  to  know  —  that  the  claim  was  very  rich.  He 
ended  up  by  being  quite  civil,  asking  us  to  sit  <lown : 
but  it  !<joked  at  first  from  his  belligerent  attitude  as 
if  he  were  going  to  put  us  out  forcibly,  which  we  after- 
wards heard  he  had  done  to  a  too -inquisitive  corre- 
spondent. 

Those  working  for  wages,  or  on  **  lays,"  are  more  com- 
municative than  the  owners.  One  need  not  be  lt»ng  here 
to  know  that  it  was  hardly  less  than  im{>ertinence  to  ask 
a  mine-owner  what  his  "pros|wcts"  were,  Unlos  he  hap- 
pened to  be  a  friend,  or  v*>lunteered  the  information. 
and  then  the  information  might  be  confidential.  For, 
with  an  iniquitous  tax,  a  tax  without  precedent,  with- 
out justification,  only  imposed  in  crass  ignorance  of  the 
conditions  of  working  and  exjKMise  of  mining,  a  tax  that 
has  t)een  likened,  even  by  Canadians  themselves,  to  liigh- 
wav  robbery,  it  was  small  wonder  that  thev  would  not 


^ 
j 


OLD-TIMERS    VS.   NEW-COMERS 

divulge  the  richness  of  their  claims.     But  they  arc  all 
ready  to  talk  about  their  ncighlx>rs. 

The  miners,  most  of  whom  were  old-timers,  lived  com- 
fortably in  their  cabins,  which  were  overheated  rather 
than  cold. 

In  the  evening,  after  work  is  done,  they  visit  around  or 
remain  indoors  reading  papers  and  books.  One  Hnds  all 
sorts  of  books,  from  a  cheap  novel  to  Gibbon's  Roman 
Empire  and  Shakespeare,  in  the  cabins  of  Bonanza  and 
Eldorado. 

There  are  many  Swedes  in  FClondike — a  fact  attributed 
largely  to  the  Treadwell  Mine  at  Juneau  having  brought 
them  there  to  work,  and  there  they  got  the  grub -stake 
which  brought  them  into  the  Yukon.  They  are  a  hard- 
headed  lot  of  men,  accustomed  to  cold  and  hard,  '*bone" 
labor,  patient,  and  satisfied  with  small  returns  in  the  ab- 
sence of  better.  They  are  sometimes  spoken  of  snecr- 
ingly,  but  that  is  a  mistake.  They  have  their  share  of 
the  goiKl  things  here,  and,  with  the  Norwegians,  are  often 
well-educated. 

The  old-timer  is  punctilious  in  the  matter  of  washing 
dishes  and  clothes  as  far  as  that  is  practicable.  Every 
cabin  has  its  wash-tub  ami  wash-board,  and  once  a  week 
the  woollens  are  changed  and  scrublxfd.  He  gives  more 
care  to  the  quality  of  his  finxl  and  to  its  preparation  than 
the  new-comer,  for  he  has  learned  by  exj>erience  that  it 
pays  to  do  so. 

Although  the  trading  companies  agree  between  them- 
selves on  prices — the  highest  that  the  miner  can  pay — 
still  the  com|)etition  is  so  keen  that  the  quality  of  fo*Kl 
is  the  very  best.  The  old-timer  never  speculates  in  food- 
One  who  is  l)etter  supplied  lets  his  neighbor  have  flour 
at  the  price  it  cost  him  in  the  store. 

The  old-timer  is  often  bitter  against  the  new-comers. 

267 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

He  wonders  what  will  become  of  the  country  and  of 
them.  What  a  chanjje  I  Four  years  aj^o,  if  you  told  a 
man  in  Seattle  you  were  poin^  into  the  Vuktui,  he  would 
set  you  down  as  a  crazy  fool. 

The  trouble  seems  to  be  that  the  old-timer  has  come 
to  regard  the  country  as  his  own,  and  naturally  resents 
innovations,  particularly  those  just  now  associated  with 
** government,"  which  they  may  well  do,  as  **  govern- 
ment"  had  small  use  for  the  countrv  until  thev.  the 
old-timers,  by  their  own  hands  proved  it  to  be  rich. 
The  greater  number  of  the  older  miners  are  Americans, 
or  have  imbil)ed  American  ideas. 

In  Circle  City  no  man  was  called  an  ** old-timer"  un- 
less he  had  ct>me  in  with  the  first  rush  of  sixteen  vears 
ago.  The  old  Cassiar  men  are  here,  but  not  many  are 
owners  of  claims.  When  Klondike  was  struck,  they  said 
to  their  younger  friends,  "  Don't  l>e  f(K>lish  ;  that  country 
has  been  overrun  bv  old  California  and  Cassiar  miners 
for  ten  years,  and  don't  you  go  there  a  ihaluiliko*  and 
expect  to  get  rich."  The  country  had  to  lo<jk  just 
right,  the  willows  had  to  lean  a  certain  way,  to  suit 
these  old,  bearded  men.  In  the  **  lower  country  "  to  what 
we  should  call"  «>ld  fogies"  the  irreverent  name  of  **  sour- 
dough stilfs"  was  given. 

I  heard  an  old-timer  confess  that  "the  longer  a  man 
stays  in  this  country  the  less  he  knows.  If  he  stays  here 
long  enough  he  gets  so  he  don't  know  nawthin." 

He  has  his  own  strict  ideas  of  morality.  Theft  wxs  as 
great  a  crime  as  munler,  and  when  either  happeneti, 
which  was  rarely,  a  miners'  meeting  was  called,  the  ac- 
cused was  given  a  chance  to  be  heard,  and  then  by  a 
vote  the  decision  was  rendered  swiftly  and  surely.     If 

•  Chinook  jargon,  meaning  "  new-comer." 

268 


TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATIOX 


guilty,  he  had  to  leave  the  country  at  once.  }!t.nc  he  left 
was  a  matter  of  no  concern.  He  had  to  Uavc !  Gam- 
bling was  regarded  as  a  legitimate  amusement,  hut  it  did 
not  mean  that  they  all  gambled.  They  considered  that 
any  one  who  chose  to  spend  his  money  that  way  was  as 
free  to  <lo  so  as  in  any  other.  Hut  if  he  could, but  would 
not,  pay  his  debts,  the  recalcitrant  was  requested  by  a 
miners*  meeting  to 
settle — and  he  did.       pwnnwu jwjpiii»ai|iiiiiLyi|^u nij^jj . uuip. 

The  professional 
gambler  is  respect- 
ed as  any  other 
man  who  behaves 
himself,  only  he  is 
considered  in  the 
light  of  a  non-pro- 
ducer, and  not  in 
the  same  class  or 
entitled  to  the 
same  consideration 
as  a  prospector  or  a 
miner.  A  man  who 
thoroughly  knows 
the  spirit  of  his  fel- 
low -  miners  says : 
**Here    the    man 

who  patronizes  a  saloon  and  the  man  who  goes  to  church 
arc  on  the  same  footing."  A  startling  statement,  but 
none  the  less  true. 

There  is  a  dearth  of  blood-curdling  tales  that  are  ex- 
pected to  be  the  stock  of  every  mining-camp.  The  Yukon 
has  been  too  law-abiding  for  many  stories  of  violence. 
The  rigors  of  the  country  and  the  broadening  effect  of 
the  life  have  made  men  behave  themselves.     The  police 

269 


WASH-D.VV 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE      , 

have  not.  as  is  claimed,  brought  al)oiit  this  condition.  It 
existcti  before  there  were  any  {>)lice  here.  The  cold 
weather,  the  poor  jjjrub  and  little  of  it,  incidents  of  a 
hard  trip  with  dog^s,  the  time  there  was  no  butter  in 
Circle  City — these  ci>nstilute  about  the  whole  stock  of 
conversation. 

One  nijjht  at  No.  7  Eldorado,  Fred  Hutchinson's  and 
Louis  Empkins's  claim,  after  work,  a  neighbor  dropped  in 


A  »oTT«  wixnow    . 

for  a  visit.  He  was  a  thin,  s^demn  Irishman,  past  middle 
age,  with  a  red  face,  retl,  dr«>opinjj  mustache,  and  a  red 
marten-skin  cap.  He  was  introduced  to  us  as  "Red" 
Sullivan.  Sullivan  began  to  relate  how  they  ha<l  found 
a  nugget  that  day  on  the  claim  where  he  was  working. 

**  Mike  Young  sees  something  bright  like  a  |)ea  in  the 
bucket,  and  he  brushed  it  «»fF,  and  it  kept  gittin'  bigger 

2? 


**REr)*   SULLIVAN 

and  bigjjer,  and  he  pulled  it  out.  You  know  ^like — 
nuthin'  ever  gits  Mike  excited,  a  regiment  of  soldiers 
wouldn't  git  Mike  excited.  He  picked  it  up  and  come  to 
the  hole  and  hollered  down,  *  I've  found  a  nugget !' 
*  How  much  ?'  I  says.  *  It  may  be  forty,  and  it  may  be 
fifty.*  *  Gosh  darn,'  says  I,*  it'll  go  a  hutulcr  and  fifty.' 
It  went  two  hundred  and  twelve.  It  was  like  a  frog. 
I  called  it  *The  Frog.*  I  told  him  to  take  it  to  De- 
mars  (a  Frenchman  who  owns  No.  S),  and  he'd  give  him 
double  the  price.     Say,  he'll  kick  him  out  «»f  the  house." 

**Red"  didn't  know  what  would  iK^come  of  the  new- 
comers. **They  go  out  with  toothpick  shoes,  fore-and- 
aft  caps,  half  a  j^jund  of  grub,  antl  a  bandanna  handker- 
chief."    Not  much  like  an  old-timer. 

A  man's  real  name  is  not  of  much  consequence  in  this 
country.  Not  half  a  dozen  men  in  camp  know  that  "old 
man  Harper's"  front  name  is  Arthur.  Like  as  not  s<^>me 
peculiarity  of  manner  or  appearance  has  instantaneously 
fixed  a  nickname  u|>on  a  man,  and  the  name  has  clung. 
**Swiftwater  Bill"  was  plain  William  (Sates.  "Nigger 
Jim"  in  civilization  was  James  Dougherty.  And  there 
is  "Happy  Jack,"  "Circle  City  Mickey,"  "Long  Shorty," 
**Kink"Miller,"FrenchCurly,"  "Skiff"  Mitchell,"Siwash 
George,"  "  H<K)tchinoo  Albert,"  **  Tom  the  Horse,"  "  Dog- 
Salmon  Bob,"  etc. 

**Nick"  GofF  was  one  of  those  old-timers.  Sixteen 
years  ago  he  came  into  the  Yukon,  and  has  never  once 
been  "outside."  For  forty  years  altogether  he  has  lived 
in  the  mines,  and  it  is  alleged  that  in  all  his  life  he  never 
saw  a  railroad  train.  Last  year  he  was  asked  why  he 
didn't  take  a  trip  out  to  San  Francisco  for  his  health  and 
see  the  sights,  among  the  other  things  the  fine  hotels, 
where  everything  that  a  man  could  desire  was  done  for 
his  comfort.     Nick  listened   attentively,  and   when  the 

271 


THE    KLONDIKl':    STAMIMCDK 


speaker  was  done  he  said:  "Vou  say  they  don't  let  a 
man  ctM>k  hisown  meals  and  make  his  own  bed  ?"  **  \Vlu\ 
no."  '*Then  I  ain't  ^::oin' to  no  place  where  I  ean't  eo«»k 
my  t)wn  meals  and  make  my  i»wn  bed,"  and  he  didn't  i;o. 
Their  sense  of  honor  in  the  matter  of  debts  is  mt>st 
strict,  but,  as  unbusinesslike  people  often  are,  they  are 
"touchy"  about  the  presentation  of  a  bill.     This  was 

one  of  the  innovations  of 
the  new  "X.  A.  T."  Com- 
pany which  they  inwardly 
resented.  McOuesten  ^ave 
credit  whenever  it  was 
asked, and  there  is  not  a  sin- 
gle instance  where  the  bill 
was  not  paid  when  it  was 
j)o.ssible  to  do  so.  It  was  a 
keen  untlerstandin^  of  the 
old-timer,  his  ^(H>d  traits 
and  his  prejudices,  that  en- 
deareil  McOuesten  to  them, 
so  that  they  sj)oke  of  him 
before  any  other  man  as  the 
"Fatherof  the  Yukon." 
The  credit  system,  while  it  often  enabled  the  miners 
to  tide  a  poor  season,  in  the  lonjj^  run  was  neither  to 
the  advantajje  of  the  miner  nor  the  company.  Half  of 
Circle  City  was  in  debt  to  McOuesten,  and  the  miners 
turned  their  cabins  over  to  the  comi)anv  when  thev 
stampeded  for  Klondike.  As  in  the  case  of  that  other 
great  monopolist,  the  Hudson's  Hay  Company,  a  nominal 
indebtedness  on  the  lxM>ks  did  not  imply  an  actual  loss, 
only  so  much  less  profit.  As  lonjj  as  a  man  was  in  debt 
he  would  not  leave  the  country,  and  as  lon^  as  he  stayed 
there  the  company  was  sure  in  time  of  jjettin^  about  all 

272  .. 


HAIRCUTTINO 


THE    (M.D-TIM  IC  K 

he  made,  so  that  it  was  to  the  interest  of  the  company 
to  kee[>  a  man  in  debt.  The  advent  of  the  new  amx- 
pany  at  F<»rly-Mile,  in  1S92,  immediately  redueed  priees. 
and  eomjH'lled  the  supplying  «>f  better  j^oods.  liuth  e«>m- 
panies  iuulerto<»k  to  do  away  with  ilie  ereilit  system,  but 
neither  company  has  strictly  enforced  the  rule. 

But  with  all  his  whims  and  prejudices,  the  old-timer 
miii[ht  serve  as  a  m<Hlel  for  courajj^e  and  manliness  and 
h«>nor  to  S4)me  who  pretend  more.  At  the  mines  he  is  in- 
dustrious and  hard-w«»rkinj>^.  It  is  only  when  he  occa- 
sionally ^oes  to  town  with  a  sack  that  he  relaxes  into  often 
reckless  dissipation.  But  when  one  has  lived  the  dreary 
life,  he  has  little  blame  in  his  heart  for  him  wlu)  returns 
with  empty  "  |H»kc**  and  no  apparent  increase  of  wisdom. 

The  oKl-timers  have  been  called  "nondescripts."  The 
new-comers  are  more  distinjjuishable  —  photoj^^raphers, 
newspa|)er  men.  physicians,  mining  engineers,  farmers, 
lumbermen,  and  clerks.  On  one  claim  not  far  below  Dis- 
covery, on  Bonanza,  a  Salvation  Army  captain  worked 
down  in  the  hole,  an  e.x-missionary  turned  the  windlass 
and  dum[>ed  the  bucket,  an  archdeacon  o(  the  Church  of 
Enj^land  w<»rked  the  riK-ker  in  the  cabin,  while  the  coi>k 
was  a  younj^  man  who  had  dealt  faro. 

I  asked  an  old  miner,  foreman  on  a  Bonanza  claim, 
how  Klondike  compared  with  other  places  he  had  been 
in?  He  had  been  in  California  in  1S52,  and  had  mined 
in  different  parts  of  the  world  for  fifty  years.  Said  he: 
"In  the  CarilxiU  country  I  saw  1 13  ounces  [about  $19^1 1 
of  jjold  taken  uf>  in  one  pan  of  dirt, and  I  .saw  102  {Kiunds 
cleaned  up  in  an  ei^ht-hour  shift   by  rtve  men.*     But 

•  Equivalent  to  aY>out  j|!545-onc  man  shovcllinij  one  hour. 
Assuniintj  a  rale  of  ii«»t  over  ihrce  huiulrod  shovels  an  hour,  the 
tlirt  wouhl  ;;o  al)out  $i..S<Jto  the  shovcl=:^3.fo  to  the  jwn- phe- 
nomenally rich. 

s  273 


i 
THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

it  was  very  limited,  not  over  a  mile  of  the  rich  dirt." 
**Was  it  richer  in  Carilxm  than  California?"  "I  have 
seen  spots  in  California — Scott's  Bar,  on  Scott's  River, 
Siskiyon  County — as  rich  as  any  in  Carilxnu  Australia 
does  not  compare,  for  the  claims  there  are  only  ten  feet 
square.  Thousands  would  be  taken  out  of  some  holes, 
but  it  was  in  spots  ;  some  would  jj^et  nothinj^." 

We  spent  a  week  on  Eldorado  and  Bonanza,  returning 
to  our  own  cabin  with  a  new  experience  and  a  hii;her  ap- 
preciation of  the  character  of  the  class  of  men  who  ex- 
plored and  developed  the  Yukon. 


DtMI'INO  THE  UlCKKT 


CHAPTER  XIV 

StoT)- of  the  Kl«»ni1ike  f>iN4.oven'  an<!  the  Stam|>e«lc  from  Forty-Milt-  and 
lirclc  City — Who  l»ivvi»verc«l  ihc  Kl«>mlike? — Iil-f«»rtune  ut  kul>erl 
Hemlerson,  the  Ih><:i»\ervr 


D 


A  M  H  F(  )RTUX  K  was  never  in  more  ca- 
pricious nnHxl  than  when  the  i^olden 
treasures  i^f  the  Klondike  were  rii)e 
for  discovery.  The  true  story  of  that 
time,  altht)uj;h  so  recent,  is  still  obscured  by 
the  mists  of  uncertainty  and  contradiction, 
and  there  arc  still  small  fniints  which  the 
lonjj  and  patient  investigation  I  ^ave  to  the 
matter  has  not  been  able  to  clear  up— such 
as  exact  dates— and  it  is  doul)tful  that  these 
ever  will  be.  The  first  news  of  the  discovery  that  reached 
the  outside  —  even  the  official  rej^orts  of  Mr.  Ogilvie  — 
generally  gave  the  credit  of  the  discovery  entirely  to  one 
Carmack,  or  **McCormick,'*  as  the  miners  call  him.  The 
story  is  fascinating  from  beginning  to  end,  and  in  mak- 
ing this  contribution  to  the  history  of  that  time  I  have 
been  animated  not  less  by  a  desire  to  gather  together  the 
scattered  ends  of  re|>i>rt  and  hearsay  than  that  tardy 
credit  may  be  given  t<»  another  man  whom  fortune,  never 
more  unkind,  has  thus  far  deprived  of  material  compen- 
sation for  a  generous  act  and  years  of  patient  work. 

The  Klondike  River  had  been  known  for  many  years, 
being  only  si.x  miles  fr<»m  Fort  Reliance,  McOuesten's 

27S 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPRDE 

first  fK)st.  Acconlin«j  to  LieuttMiant  Frc<UTick  Schwat- 
ka,  who  passed  its  mouth  in  iSS;,  it  was  kn«»wii  to  the 
traders  as  **  I )fiT  River.**  Both  Harper  and  MiOiiesten 
hunted  niiH»se  in  the  present  IJonanza  Creek  on  the  site 
of  Discovery.  Sixteen  years  ai;:o  a  party  of  prospectors, 
amoti}]^  whom  was  CJeneral  Carr,  how  of  the  State  t»f 


MtOiFFCTOtS   I?«   CAMP   IN    M  MMFR 


Washington,  camj)e<l  on  the  present  Eldorado  Creek. 
Other  parties  passetl  down  the  Klondike  from  the  head- 
waters of  Stewart  River  aUuit  the  year  iSS6,  hut  the 
river  from  its  pjeneral  ap|H*arance  was  not  considered  a 
gold-bearinjj  stream,  S4»  year  after  year  it  was  passetl  by 
for  the  more  favored  dijjjjings  of  Forty-Mile  and  Birch 
Creek. 

In  the  year  1890,  one  Jr»e  Ladue,  a  French  Canadian 

276 


"ROBBIE"    HENDERSON 

originally  from  Plattsburg,  New  York,  an  agent  of  iho 
Alaska  Commercial  Company,  decided  to  establish  an 
inde|K*ndent  trading  anil  outfitting  post.  Recognizing 
that  his  only  chance  was  to  grow  up  with  a  new  region, 
and  having  faith  that  other  creeks  would  be  discovered 
as  rich  as  the  Forty-Mile  diggings,  he  built  the  post,  in- 
cluding a  saw-mill  in  partnership  with  Mr.  Harper,  at 
the  mouth  of  Si.xty  -Mile  River,  and  began  recommend- 
ing ail  new  -  comers  to  prosj)ect  the  bars  or  surface 
d'RJ5'"i?^  <>^  the  latter  stream,  but  more  especially  of  Ind- 
ian Creek  or  River,  a  stream  entering  the  Yukon  on 
the  right  or  east  side  about  twenty-five  miles  below  his 
post,  and  thirty -three  above  the  now  abandoned  F<»rt 
Reliance.  For  telling  so-called  'Mies,"  especially  about 
Indian  Creek,  Ladue  was  almost  driven  from  Forty-Mile 
by  the  irate  miners. 

In  the  summer  of  i»S94,  among  the  crowd  drawn  in  by 
the  glowing  reports  from  the  Forty -Mile  district  was 
one  Robert  Henderson,  hailing  from  the  mines  of  Aspen. 
Colorado,  of  Scotch  parentage,  but  a  Canadian  by  birth, 
his  father  being  lighthouse-keej>er  at  Big  Island,  Pictt)U 
County,  Nova  Scotia.  He  was  a  rugged,  earnest  man, 
some  thirty -seven  years  of  age,  six  feet  tall,  with  clear 
blue  eyes.  From  boyhood  he  had  been  of  an  adventurous 
disjtosition,  with  a  passion  for  gt>ld-hunting  that  showed 
itself  even  at  his  Big  Island  home  in  solitary  excursions 
about  his  bleak  fisherman's  isle,  in  which  **  Robbie,**  as 
he  was  called,  was  always  looking  for  gold.  Henderson 
had  but  ten  cents  in  his  pocket  when  he  reached  Ladue's 
post.  Hearing  what  Ladue  was  saying  about  g<KHl  dig- 
gings on  Indian  River,  he  said  to  Ladue  :  "I'm  a  deter- 
mined man.  I  won't  starve.  Let  me  pr<»spect  for  you. 
If  it's  good  for  me,  it's  good  for  you."  Ladue  gave  him 
a  grub-stake,  and  Henderson  went  upon  Indian  River 

377 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

and  found  it  exartlyas  Laduc  had  said.  He  could  make 
"wages,"  working  the  surface  bars.  On  that  acc(»unl,  he 
did  not  desert  it  for  the  just  then  more  popular  fields  of 
Forty-Mile  and  Birch  creeks,  but  determined  to  try  aj^ain. 
With   the   experience  of  a  miner,  he  knew  that  farther 


r^A'i.: 


ROKERT    IIKNDEKn«»N 


on  towards  the  heads  of  the  tributaries  of  Indian  River 
he  would  probably  fiwd  coarse  jijold,  though  perhaps  not 
on  the  surface,  as  it  was  on  the  river.  Accordingly,  the 
next  summer  found  Henderson  again  on  Indian  River. 
He  pushed  on,  and  found  "leaf"  gold  on  v  hat  is  now 
known  as  "Australia  Creek,"  one  of  the  main  forks  of 

278 


FIRST  GOLD  TAKEN  OUT  OF  KLONDIKE 

Indian  River,  seventy  -  five  or  eighty  miles  from  the 
Yukon,  one  piece  being,  he  says,  as  large  as  his  thumb- 
nail. Had  he  gone  up  the  other  fork  suthcicntly  far  he 
would  have  discovered  the  rich  diggings  of  Dominion 
and  Sulphur  creeks.  He  returned  to  ^ixty-Mile,  and 
when  winter  came  he  put  his  goods  on  a  sled,  returned 
to  Indian*  River,  and  went  up  Quartz  Creek,  a  tributary 
of  Indian  River  on  the  north,  forty  miles  from  the  Yukon. 
Having  had  no  dogs  to  help  him,  it  was  a  very  hard  trip. 
It  to«)k  thirty  days  for  him  to  reach  Quartz  Creek.  He 
worked  all  winter  on  Quartz  Creek,  and  took  out  about 
$500,  another  $100  and  more  being  taken  out  later  by 
other  parties  from  the  same  hole.  In  the  spring  he  went 
back  up  in  the  direction  of  Australia  Creek,  getting  only 
fair  prospects,  nothing  that  warranted  the  **  opening  up** 
of  a  claim.  During  this  time  Henderson  was  alone,  hav- 
ing no  partner,  and  depending  mainly  on  the  game  that 
fell  to  his  rifle.  Returning  from  the  head  of  the  river 
he  m-ent  up  Quartz  Creek  again.  This  time  he  cast  eyes 
longingly  towards  the  ridge  of  hill  at  the  head  of  Quartz 
Creek  separating  the  waters  of  Indian  River  from  those 
of  the  then  almost  unknown  Klondike  River.  Cross- 
ing over  the  short,  sharp  divide  (it  is  so  sharp  that  if  a  cup- 
ful of  water  were  poured  upon  the  crest,  one  half  woultl 
run  one  •"  ly,  the  other  half  the  other  way),  he  dropped 
down  into  a  deep-cleft  valley  of  a  small  stream  running 
northward.  He  prospocte<l,  and  found  eight  cents  to  the 
pan!  That  meant  ** wages";  such  a  prospect  was  then 
considered  ^(khi.  Enthusiastic  over  the  find,  Henderson 
went  back  over  the  divide.  There  were  about  twenty 
meaon  Indian  River,  working  mostly  on  the  bars  at  the 
mouth  of  Quartz  Creek,  S4»me  of  them  doing  fairly  well. 
Henderson  persuaded  three  of  the  men  —  Ed  Munson, 
Frank  Swanson,  and  Albert  Dalton — to  go  back  with  him. 

279 


THE    KLOXDIKIC    STAMIM:I)K 

The  four  men  took  over  whip-saws,  sawed  hiiiil>er, 
built  sluice- boxes,  and  "opened  up"  a  elaini  in  rej^ular 
fashion  about  a  (piarter  of  a  mile  below  the  forks  —  a 
spot  plainly  visible  from  the  divide — and  began  shovel- 
linj;  in  the  ^<»M-bearing  dirt. 

He  named  the  stream  'Uiold  Hott<>m."  It  lay  parallel 
with  the  present  lionan/a  Creek  an<l  entered  tiie  Klon- 
dike River  about  nine  miles  from  it^i  mouth.    The  amount 


:;.  fr-^^ 


JIOUTH   OK   kU>Ni)|kK   KIVKR    AT   TIMF.  <»K  THE   STRIKK- 
*  !»AL.MON-RACKS 


CMIEK    ISAAC  S 


that  they  shovelled  in  on  Gold  Bottom  Creek  was  $750, 
aud  that  was  t he  first  ^old  taken  out  of  Klontiiki.  It  was 
equally  divided  between  the  four  men.  Now  if  a  {)erson 
had  st<xKi  on  the  crest  of  the  ridge  and  looked  to  the 
westward,  he  would  have  seen  the  valley  of  another  large 
creek.  That  creek  had  never  l>een  prospected,  but  was 
known  as  **  Rabbit  Creek";  it  was  so  close  to  Gold 
Bottom  Creek  that  if  one  knows  just  the  right  spot  on 

the  divide,  the  cup  of  water  would    run   not  only  into 

2go 


SI  WAS  11   (iKoRCii:' 


Iiuiian  River  and  (lold  Bottom  Creek,  but  als«»  into  the 
source  of  this  '*  Rabbit  Creek."  For  in  this  manner  the 
heads  of  a  number  of  streams  lie  together,  as  the  spokes 
of  a  wheel  around  the  hub. 

Early  in  August  the  party  ran  out  of  provisions,  and, 
leaviii}^  the  others  at  work,  Ilentlerson  went  down  Indian 
River  and  back  to  Sixty- Mile.  There  were  about  a  ilo/.on 
men  at  the  jH»st  and  at  Harper  tV  Ladue's  saw-mill,  also  a 
jKirly  who.were  on  their  way  to  Stewart  River.  Hender- 
son told  them  what  he  had  found.  He  persuaded  the  Stew- 
art River  party  to  turn  back,  telling  tliem  they  would 
have  to  KH)k  ft^r  it,  whereas  he  \\in\  /omit/  if.  Ladue  at 
once  sent  two  horses  overland  with  supplies,  and  all  the 
others  went  with  them  e.xceptin^  Ladue.  Henderson 
repaired  his  boat,  and  with  some  supplies  started  down 
river,  leaving  Ladue  to  follow  him.  On  account  of  low 
water  he  was  unable  to  return 
up  Indian  River;  besides,  it 
was  nearer  by  the  mouth  t>f 
the  Klondike  River. 

It  was  the  Hshinjj:  season. 
The  salnn>n  in  the  Yukon  are 
very  plentiful  in  August. 
Chief  Isaac's  Indians  were  tak- 
injj  the  s;dmon  in  weirs  and 
drying  them  on  racks  in  the 
sun. 

Across  from  the  Indian  vil- 
lage and  a  few  hundred  yards 
below  the  mouth  of  the  river 

were  the  tents  of  a  little  party  consisting  of  a  white  man 
and  some  Indians — a  squaw,  two  Indian  men,  and  a  boy. 
The  white  man's  name  was  George  Washington  Carmack ; 
the  squaw  was  his  wife;  the  Indian  men  were  respectively 

281 


<;f.ok(;k  w.  cakmuk 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMTEDE 

Skookum  Jim  and  Cultus  (worthless)  or  *'Takish*' 
Charlie,  while  the  boy  was  named  K'nelh — all  Takish* 
Indians.  Charlie  was  a  bijj  chief  (^f  the  Takish.  Jim 
would  have  been  chief,  beinj:^  the  s«»n  of  the  f»>rmer  chief. 

but  amon^  the  Takish  the  de- 
scent is  throui^h  the  chief's  sis- 
ter. Jim  and  Charlie,  therefore, 
though  called  brothers,  were 
really  cousins,  and  w<'re  called 
brothers-in-law  of  Carmack. 
This  Carmack  was  oriijinally  a 
sailor  on  a  man-of-war,  but  had 
taken  up  his  alxxle  with  the 
ChilktH)ts  at  Dvea  and  mar- 
rietl  a  Takish  wife.  Carmack 
liked  the  life  with  the  Indians, 
and  it  used  to  Ix*  said  that 
one  couldn't  please  him  more 
than  to  say,  **Why,  (let^ri^e, 
you're  jjetting  every  day  more  like  a  Siwash  !*'  "Si wash 
Georjje"  was  the  name  by  which  he  became  generally 
known.  Carmack  had  made  excursions  over  the  pass 
years  before,  and  both  he  and  the  Indians,  who  were 
his  inseparable  companions,  knew  somewhat  of  mining, 
thouijh  thev  could  hardlv  be  called  miners. 

Carmack  was  outfitted  by  John  J.  Healy,  who  was  then 
at  Dyca  to  trade  with  the  Takish  and  other  interior 
Indian.s.  Carmack  built  a  post,  still  called  "  McCor- 
mick's  Post,"  situated  on  the  bank  of  the  Yukon,  alxuit 
twenty  miles  above  Five-Finger  Rapitls.  Any  one  who 
took  the  trouble  to  stoj)  there  might  have  seen  fastened 
against  one  of  the  rude  log  buildings  a  pajK^r  with  some 


SKlw^KIM   JIM 


•  Same  as  T.igish— pronounced  Tahktisk, 

382 


CARMACK    IS    PERSUADED 

writtnjj  upon  it :  *'Oonc  to  Forty-Mile  for  v;rub."  Under 
the  floor  they  miy:ht  have  found  a  l)ear-skin  robe  and 
some  other  things,  left  there  when  he  started  down  river 
on  the  journey  that  was  to  make  the  name  of  Klondike 
known  to  the  whole  world.  This  notice  was  put  up  in 
the  summer  of  1S95. 

The  white  man  an<l  Indians  secured  an  outfit  at  Fort 
Selkirk  from  Mr.  Harper.  The  following  spring  Car- 
mack  dropped  down  to  Forty -Mile,  but  presently  re- 
turned as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike  for  the 
fishing,  where  he  was  joined  by  his  Indians.*  They 
set  their  nets  just  below  the  m«)uth  of  the  Klondike, 
and  were  drying  an<l  curing  their  catch,  Indian  fashion, 
when  Henderson  came  along,  on  his  way  toOold  I5ottom. 

As  Henderson's  boat  t<»uched  shore  he  saw  Carmack. 
"There,"  he  thought,  "is  a  p(K>r  devil  who  hasn't  struck 
it."  He  went  down  to  where  Carmack  was,  told  him 
of  his  prospects  on  Oold  Bottom,  and  said  to  him  that 
he  had  better  come  up  and  stake.  At  first  Carmack  did 
not  want  to  go,  but  Henderson  urgetl.  At  length  Car- 
mack consented  to  go,  but  wanted  to  take  the  Klondike 
Indians  up  als<»,  as  well  as  his  own.  Henderson  demurred 
at  that,  and,  Inring  frank,  may  have  said  something  not 
complimentary  aln^ut  "Siwashes"  in  general.  It  has 
been  reported  that  Henderson  said  he  "didn't  intend 
to  stake  the  whole  Siwash  trilK%"  and  he  added,  "I  want 
to  give  the  preference  to  my  t>ld  Sixty-Mile  friends." 
What  eflfect  this  may  have  had  on  subsetpient  events  I 
do  not  know;  I  can  only  surmise  that  it  did  have  some. 

Next  morning  Henderson  went  on  to   his  claim  on 

♦  Another  while  man.  named  Fritz  Klokc.  was  also  there  fishing, 
and  was  drying  fish  under  a  roui;h  nIicJ  of  poles  covered  with 
canvas,  which  may  J>e  railed  the  lirst  wiiitc  man's  building  on  the 
site  of  what  is  now  Uawson. 

283 


THE    KLONDIKE   STAMPEDE 

G*>Ul  Bottom.  Carmack  with  two  Indians  followed  soon. 
but,  instead  of  taking  the  circuitous  route  by  the  mouth 
of  Gold  Bottom,  \ent  up  "  Rabbit  Creek."  Carmack  ar- 
rived soon  after  Henderson,  and  showed  some  "colors" 
of  gold  that  he  had  found  on  '*  Rabbit  Creek."  "  Colors  ** 
and  **pay"  are  by  no  means  to  be  conf()unded.  Traces, 
or  ** colors,"  of  gold  are  to  be  found  almost  everywhere. 
The  Indians  and  Carmack  staked  each  a  claim  on  (lold 
Bottom.  When  they  were  ready  to  go,  Henderson  asked 
Carmack  if  he  intended  to  pros[)ect  on  the  way  bai  k,  to 
which  he  replied  that  he  did.  Then  Henderson  asked 
him,  if  he  found  anything,  to  send  back  one  of  his 
Indians,  saying  that  he  had  gold,  and  that  he  would 
pay  him  for  the  trouble ;  which,  Henderson  asserts, 
Carmack  said  he  would  i\o. 

Leaving  Henderson  and  his  partners  at  work,  Car- 
mack returned  homeward  as  he  came.  A  few  miles'  walk 
along  the  bald  crest  of  the  divide  brought  him  into  the 
forks  of  **  Rabbit  Creek,"  S4»me  distance  from  its  head. 
Five  miles  beyond,  in  the  thick  spruce- timbered  valley. 
a  tributary  ab<^>ut  as  large  as  **  Rabbit  Creek"  puts  in  «>n 
the  left-hand  side. 

About  half  a  mile  below  this  large  tributary  the  f)arty 
stopped  to  rest.  They  had  been  panning  here  and  there. 
Carmack,  it  is  said,  went  to  sleep  ;  SkcH>kum  Jim,  taking 
the  pan,  went  to  the  **rim"  of  the  valley  at  the  fo<>t  of 
a  birch-tree  and  rtlled  it  with  dirt.  Washing  it  in  the 
creek,  he  found  a  large  showing  of  goKl.  Right  "under 
the  grass-roots,"  Jim  said,  he  found  from  ten  cents  to 
one  dollar  to  the  pan.  In  a  little  while,  it  is  s;iid,  they 
filled  a  shot-gun  cartridge  with  coarse  gold.  A  strange 
circumstance  was  that  this  gold  was  not  from  bed-rock. 
which  was  many  feet  below  the  surface,  nor  even  the 
present  creek-l>ed,  but,  unsusi»ected   by  them,  had  slid 

2&4    . 


> 

y. 


OP 


.  •      :    • 


THE   GREAT    DISCOVERY 

down  from  the  **  bench,"  or  hill-side,  a  kind  of  diggings 
which  were  unknuwn  at  that  time.  Carmack  staJced  off 
Discovery  (a  double  claim)  for  himself,  and  hve  hundred 
feet  above  and  below  for  his  two  Indian  companit)ns, 
Skookum  Jim  taking  Xo.  i  above  Discovery,  and  Cultus 
Charlie  No.  i  below.  The  date  of  tliis  is  variously  given 
as  the  i6th  and  17th  of  August,  the  former  date  being 
generally  regarded  as  the  probable  one. 

After  staking,  they  hastened  to  Forty-Mile,  forgetting 
their  promise  to  Henderson,  who  by  every  moral  right 
was  entitled  to  a  claim  near  the  rich  ground  they  un- 
doubtedly had  discovered.  They  recorded  their  claims 
before  Inspector  Constantine,  the  recorder  or  acting  gold 
commissioner,  and  named  the  creek  *'  Bonanza." 

Carmack's  own  story  of  "$2.50  to  the  pan"  was  not  be- 
lieved, though  it  was  not  doubted  that  he  had  found 
gold.  A  stampeile  followed.  Drunken  men  were  thrown 
into  boats.  One  man  was  tied  and  made  to  go  along.  But 
there  was  no  excitement  beyond  what  attends  a  stam- 
pede for  locations  on  any  creek  on  which  gold  has  been 
found.  There  are  always  persons  about  a  mining  camp 
ready  to  start  on  a  stampede  simply  as  a  chance,  wheth- 
er good  prospects  have  been  found  or  not.  Whole  creeks 
have  been  staked  out  in  the  belief  that  gold  would  sub- 
sequently tx;  found.  So  the  excitement  of  this  earlier 
stage  was  of  small  significance.  It  was  that  of  the  pro- 
fessional **stam|>eder,"  so  to  speak — rounders  aboiit  the 
saloons,  some  new  arrivals,  but  few  old  miners,  the  latter 
being  still  in  the  diggings  up  the  creek. 

The  first  persons  to  arrive  at  the  scene  of  the  new  dis- 
covery began  staking  down-stream.  That  also  was  a 
**stampeder*s**  custom.  The  chances  were  considered 
better  there  than  above.  It  is  all  nonsense,  the  talk  new 
of  persons  who  would  have  one   believe  they  "  got   in 

287 


THE    KLONDIKK    STAMPEDi: 

on  choice  locations"  by  reason  of  superior  foresiijht. 
It  was  blind  luck.  The  stakini^^  went  on  down-stream  for 
six  miles, and  then  iK^jjan  al)ove,  and  continued  i**r  seven 
or  eight  miles  up-stream  before  the  side  jjulches,  or 
**pups,"  as  they  are  called,  were  thouujht  of  seriously. 

Ladue,  who  had  started  for  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike 
behind  Henderson,  was  amonjjj  the  first  to  hear  of  Car- 
mack's  strike.  Ladue  staked  a  town-site  at  the  mouth  i»f 
the  Klondike  and  started  for  Forty-Mile,  but.  meetinij  a 
man  who  wanted  some  luml)er,  he  sent  on  his  application 
by  another  party,  returning  to  the  mill  at  Sixty-Mile, 
and  s<K>n  after  returned  to  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike 
with  nails,  spikes,  and  lumber,  built  a  nnigh  warehouse, 
just  opposite  the  present  Alaska  Commercial  C«)mpany's 
warehouse,  52X40  feet,  and  a  cabin — the  first  in  Dawson 
— the  name  given  the  new  town  by  the  surveyor,  Mr. 
Ogilvie,  in  honor  of  his  chief.  Dr.  George  M.  Dawson, 
director  of  the  Canadian  Geological  Survey.  The  Alaska 
Commercial  Company's  steamer  Arctic  having  by  this 
time  reached  Forty-Mile,  bound  for  Fort  Selkirk,  pushed 
on  through  the  Ice  that  wxs  running  in  the  river  to  the 
new  town,  arriving  in  September  with  a  few  miners  and 
a  very  limited  amount  of  supplies.  After  discharging, 
she  hurried  back  to  Forty-Mile,  but  was  frozen  in  be- 
fore she  could  be  placed  in  a  safe  place,  and  the  next 
spring,  in  trying  to  get  her  free  of  the  ice  before  she 
was  crushed,  a  stick  of  dynamite,  intended  for  the  ice, 
destroyed  her. 

Among  the  first  to  hear  of  the  strike  were  four  men 
from  up  river — Dan  McGilvray,  Dave  McKay,  Dave  Kd- 
wards,  and  Harry  Waugh — and  they  located  Xos.  3,  14, 
15,  and  i6  below  Discovery.  These  men  did  the  jirst 
sluicing  that  was  done  on  the  creek,  and  they  made  the 
first  clean-up,  with  five  boxes  set.     The  figures  are  lack- 

288 


KLOXDIKEl    EXAGOERATIOX 

ing  for  their  first  shovelling,  but  on  the  second  they  cleaned 
up  thirteen  and  a  half  ounces  of  goM  ($;29.5o),  being  five 
hours'  work  of  one  man  shovelling.  The  gold  varied  from 
the  size  of  pinheads  to  nuggets,  one  t»f  $12  being  found. 
Now  the  Klondike  magnifier  began  his  work,  with  this 
curious  result,  that  the  '*  lies  **  of  tonlay  were  surpassed 
by  the  truth  of  ttvmorrow,  until  it  came  to  be  accepteii 
that,  *' You  can't  tell  no  lies  about  Klondike."  Mc(iil- 
vrayand  the  rest  had  perhaps  $1500 — surely  a  large  sum 
for  the  time  th';y  had  worked.  Ladue  weighed  the  gokl, 
and  as  he  came  out  of  the  store  he  said  to  some  as.s<-m- 
bled  miners,  "  How's  that  for  two  and  a  half  days'  shov- 
elling-in— $4008?"  The  liability  to  exaggeration  al>out  a 
mining  camp  is  s<)  great  that  it  is  im{>ossil)le  for  any  one 
to  escape  who  writes  or  speaks  in  the  midst  of  atfairs 
concerning  any  specific  find.  A  man  with  a  town-site 
must  also  be  allowed  a  great  deal  of  latitude  in  such 
matters.  But  sc»on  the  joke  was  on  the  other  side.  Men 
actually  on  the  sp<it  would  not  believe  anything  they 
heard.  Two  of  the  men  working  on  Indian  River  came 
down  and  heard  of  the  strike.  Said  one  to  his  partner, 
**  Shall  we  go  up  and  stake  ?"  Replied  the  other,  "  Why, 
I  wouldn't  go  across  the  river  on  that  old  Si  wash's  word" 
(meaning  Carmack).  They  went  on  down  to  Forty-Mile. 
Another  party,  one  of  whom  was  Swan  Peterson,  who 
bought  in  on  No.  ^^  Eldorado,  came  along  at  the  same 
time,  and  argued  for  three  hours  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Klondike  whether  they  should  go  up.  and  finally  went  on 
to  Circle  City. 

There  were  few  old-timers  in  the  procession.  T/wr 
knew  all  about  Klondike.  It  was  nothing  but  a  **mo«»se- 
pasture."  It  was  not  like  other  places  where  they  had 
seen  gold.  They  climbed  the  hills  and  walked  along 
the  divide  until  they  could  lot^k  down  into  the  valley  of 
T  289 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

B«»nanza.  Here  many  of  tlinn  stopped  and  threw  up 
their  hands  in  disgust.  Others  went  the  round  of  the 
creek,  cursing  and  swearing  at  those  who  told  them  to 
come  there.  One  old  -  tinier  got  up  as  far  as  Xo.  20 
above,  where  the  last  stakes  were.  He  surveyed  the 
pn>s|>ect,  and  as  he  turned  away  remarked,  **  I'll  leave 
it  ti>  the  Swedes."  (The  Swedes  were  sup|M>seil  to  l>e 
willing  to  work  the  |XK)rest  gnuind.)  An«>ther,  or  it 
raav  have  been  the  s;ime,  is  said  to  have  written  on  the 
stakes  »>f  No.  21.  not  the  usual  **  I  elaim."  etc.,  but,  '*  riiis 
tn(H*Si'- pasture  is  rtSinrti  for  the  Swedes  aiui  Cheehah- 
kocsr  Louis  Rhinles  staked  it  right  afterwards.  After 
he  had  written  his  name  he  said  to  his  eompatiions,  Ih»- 
ing  ashamed  of  staking  in  such  a  place,  that  he  would 
cut  his  name  off  for  twt)  bits  (25  cents).  The  ne.xt  sum- 
mer he  t<H>k  out  fortv-four  thousand  and  <Hld  tlollars. 

But  all  that  and  much  more  was  hi<lden  in  the  future. 
A  Klon<like  claim  was  not  consitlered  worth  anything. 
One-half  interest  in  »>ne  of  the  richest.  Eldoratio  claims 
was  sold  for  a  sack  of  rtour.  A  few  thousand  dollars 
could  have  bought  up  the  creek  from  en<l  to  end. 

Some  who  had  provisions  remained  to  prospect,  others 
returned  to  Forty- Mile,  just  as  the  miners  were  coming 
in  from  the  diggings,  to  learn  for  the  first  time  of  a  strike 
on  Klondike.  Among  these  was  a  Sweile  by  the  name 
iA  Charlie  Anderson.  By  the  time  Anderson  reached 
the  new  diggings  there  was  nothing  left.  After  a  fruit- 
less attempt  to  reach  a  distant  creek  from  which  g<»ld 
had  been  rej)orted,  he  returned  discf)uraged  to  Dawson. 
There  a  gambler  approached  him  and  said,  **  Charlie, 
don't  y«>u  want  to  buy  a  claim  ?"  **  I  don't  care  if  I  do. 
How  much  do  y<ni  want  ?*'  "  I'll  let  you  have  Xo.  29  on 
Eldorado  for  $Soo.**  "I'll  take  it,"  replied  Anderson,  who 
had  taken  out  a  considerable  sum  that  summer  from  a 

290 


H 


r 


7! 


> 


* 
Ja 


9%    ' 


^      •      • 


KLONDIKE  A   ''BUNCO* 

claim  on  Miller  Creek,  at  the  head  of  Sixty-Mile  River, 
and  he  weighed  out  the  dust.  The  entcr[)risin^  salesman 
went  about  boasting  how  he  had  played  Charlie  for  a 
"sucker/'  only  he  wanted  some  one  to  kick  him  for  not 
having  askeil  him  $1200.  He  believed  he  couKl  have  got 
it  just  as  easily  as  he  did  the  $Soo.  The  man  who  sold 
the  claim  is  still  a  poor  man.  When  Eldorado  began  to 
**  prove  up,"  even  Anderson  could  not  realize  the  enor- 
mous value  of  his  claim,  from  which  there  will  come  out 
$40o,ooo,if  the  remaining  two- fifths  are  as  rich  as  the  three- 
fifths  that  have  been  worked  thus  far.  Eldorado  was  nctt 
liked  as  well  as  Adams  Creek,  just  below  it.  A  late-comer 
went  up  Adams,  found  a  man  staking  for  himself  and 
family  (by  this  time  the  real  excitement  had  begun).  Said 
the  late-comer  :  **  I've  come  a  good  way.  What  you  are 
doing  is  illegal,  and  I  want  a  claim  and  mean  to  have 
one."  The  man  who  was  staking  told  him  he  would  like 
to  have  his  friends  near  him,  and  offered  him  the  stakes 
of  No.  15  Eldorado,  if  that  would  do  as  well.  It  was  ac- 
cepted. Nothing  more  than  **  wages "  has  yet  been 
found  on  Adams. 

How  was  the  news  of  the  Klondike  discovery  received 
on  the  lower  river?  Forty-Mile,  the  seat  of  the  re- 
corder, was  of  course  the  first  to  hear  all  the  reports  and 
rumors.  This  can  best  be  told  in  the  words  of  one  who 
was  in  Forty-Mile  town  at  the  time.  **  Nobody  believed 
any  of  the  first  reports  al)out  gold  on  the  Klondike. 
You  see,  there  never  was  any  money  in  the  lower  coun- 
try. A  man  would  come  in  after  a  hard  summer's  work 
with  a  *poke*  [sack]  that  a  man  would  be  ashamed  of 
here  in  Dawson.  They  owed  the  stores  for  their  last 
year's  outfit,  and  they'd  pay  for  that  and  get  credit  on 
next  year's  outfit.  The  stores  had  rather  have  it  that 
way  than  not.     They  were  sure  a  man  would  not  leave 

293 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  country  without  paying,  or  with  a  small  stake,  so 
they'd  be  sure  sooner  or  later  of  ^ettin^  all  he  made. 
They  were  a  pretty  good  class  of  men  in  the  lower  coun- 
try, and  most  of  them  could  get  credit.  A  man  would 
come  into  a  saloon,  and  all  he'd  have  would  be  one  drink 
or  one  dance.  You'd  never  see  them  asking  up  three  or 
four  at  once  to  drink.  Why,  there  weren't  but  three  men 
in  Forty-Mile  that  could  afford  to  get  drunk.  They  did 
nothing  all  winter  but  sit  ground  where  it  was  warm, 
playing  pedro,  solitaire,  and  casino.  Word  came  to  For- 
ty-Mile that  Louis  Rh«)des  had  two  men  working  for 
him,  and  was  getting  good  pa-y.  *  That's  a  lie,'  said  t»ne 
man.  *  Louis  Rhodes!  when  was  he  able  to  hire  two 
men?*  Ne.xt  word  came  dt)wn  that  Ben  Wall  was  get- 
ting two-bit  dirt.  *  Hell !'  says  Nigger  Jim;  *  I've 
known  Ben  Wall  these  ten  years, and  he's  the  all-rtrcdest 
liar  in  the  Yukon.*  When  they  heard  that  Berry  was 
getting  §1  to  the  pan,  they  laughed.  Klondike  was  a 
bunco  —  nothing  but  a  bunco."  These  words  were  spo- 
ken in  what  the  miners  called  "josh,"  but  they  were  true, 
nevertheless. 

Circle  City,  170  miles  farther  away  than  Forty -Mile, 
did  not  get  the  news  so  s<K>n.  The  first  re|K)rt  that 
reached  Circle  was  of  a  discovery  on  Klondike — an  ounce 
to  the  "shovel,"  shovelling  off  the  surface.  This,  in 
miners'  parlance,  meant  that  one  man  had  shovelleil 
into  the  sluice- bo .xes  gold  to  the  value  of  one  ounce  ($1 7) 
|)er  day.  The  next  news  was  when  Sam  F^artlett  came 
down  with  a  raft  of  logs  which  he  had  failed  to  land  at 
Forty-Mile.  Bartlett  said  it  was  a  **bilk";  that  Joe  La- 
due  was  only  trying  to  get  men  up  to  his  town-site — he 
had  stopped  there,  but  would  not  stake.  The  next  news 
came  to  Oscar  -^Vshby,  a  saloon  -  keei>er,  from  a  friend, 
about  the  middle   of  November.     The  river  was  then 

=94 


P  ^^■i^wwjMmwjM.tijgWyJAMJiy^jy 


CIRCLE   CITY   ABANDONED 

closed,  and  the  letter  came  down  over  the  ice.*  There 
were  abi.)Ut  seventy- Hve  men  in  Oscar's  saloon  when  the 
letter  was  read.  It  was  somewhat  to  this  etfect,  telling 
Ashby  to  buy  all  the  property  he  c<»uld  on  Klondike,  it 
did  not  make  any  dirterence  what  the  prices  were:**  This 
15  one  of  the  richest  strikes  in  the  world.  It  is  a  world- 
beater.  I  can't  tell  how  much  i;oUl  we  are  j^ettini:  to  the 
pan.  I  never  saw  or  heard  of  the  like  of  such  a  thini;  in 
my  life.  I  myself  saw  $150  panned  out  of  one  pan  of  dirt, 
and  I  think  they  are  ^ettinj;!:as  hij^h  as  $1000."  The  crowd 
in  the  saloon  had  a  big  laugh,  and  tliought  S4»  little  of  it 
that  they  never  spoke  o(  it  again.  "  It  disgusted  them  that 
men  were  so  crazy  as  to  write  that  way,"  to  (juote  the  wt)rds 
of  one  who  was  present.  Soon  after  another  letter  came. 
This  time  it  was  to  Harry  Spencer  and  Frank  Dens- 
more,  from  a  party  with  whom  they  were  well  acquaint- 
ed. Densmore  at  once  fitted  out  a  dog-team  and  went 
up.  After  he  got  up  he  wrote  back  to  Spencer,  relating 
all  the  particulars.  He  repeated  the  words  «>f  the  others 
— namelv,  that  he  reallv  could  not  tell  what  thev  win' 
finding:  it  was  immensely  rich ;  he  had  never  seen  any- 
thing  like  it.  Now  Spencer  and  Densmore  had  large 
interests  in  Circle  City,  so  the  men  knew  it  could  be 
no  lie;  they  were  c«)mpelled  to  believe  it.  The  wildest 
stampede  resulted.  Every  dog  that  could  l>e  I)ought, 
begged,  or  stolen  was  pressed  into  service,  and  iht>se  who 
could  not  get  dogs  started  hauling  their  own  sleds,  men 
and  even  women,  until  in  two  weeks  there  were  not  twenty 
people  left  in  Circle,  and  of  those  some  were  cripples  and 
could  not  travel.     In  a  short  while  there  were  not  even 

♦Tom  O'Brien  and  the  general  man;mer  of  the  Alaska  Com- 
mercial Company  made  the  250  irail-niilesor  more  in  a  few  hours 
over  five  days,  travelling  lij;hl.  with  basket  slcij^h  and  dogs  —a 
record  trip. 

297 


THE    KLONDIKK    STAMPEDK 

that  number  left,  a  report  giving  the  actual  number  as 
two  men  and  cme  woman.  Those  who  liad  claims  tU- 
serte<I  them,  and  those  who  had  outrtts  tot)k  what  they 
could  haul  and  left  the  rest  in  a  cache,  where  they  are  to 
this  day.  One  man,  William  Parrel,  of  Xo.  60  al)ove  on 
Bonanza,  left  a  thousand  dollars*  worth  of  provisions, 
five  full  claims  on  one  creek,  and  fully  a  dozen  other 
interests,  all  considered  g<KKl  prospects;  and,  says  he,  "I 
haven't  paid  any  attention  to  them  since."  Hy  the  time 
the  Circle  City  crowd  arrived  Honanza  was  staked  to 
Xo.  60  below  and  into  the  6o*s  above,  and  also  the  side 
creeks,  El<l»»rado  and  Adams.  S>  that  the  late-comers 
had  to  ^o  into  the  side-j^ulches,  or  else  buy  in,  which 
latter  many  of  them  did,  so  that  on  such  as  Eldorado  it 
soon  came  about  that  few  of  the  original  stakers  were 
left,  ha^inj^  sold  out  at  ridiculous  prices. 

There  were  from  three  to  four  hundred  miners  at  work 
about  Circle  City,  and  nearly  all  had  money,  the  United 
States  mint  returns  jjivinjj  the  amount  of  ^old  cleaned 
up  that  soa.son  in  Birch  Creek  as  $4;oo,ooo ! 

The  first  mail  that  went  outside  by  doj;-team  carried 
letters  to  friends  and  relatives,  advising  them  that  a  bi^ 
strike  had  l>een  made.  It  reached  them  in  January  and 
February,  and  they  started.  Crossinjjf  the  pass  in  spriti^, 
they  came  down  on  the  hi^h-water  in  June,  and,  though 
unable  to  get  in  on  the  main  creeks,  many  of  them 
located  other  creeks  that  are  showing  up  rich.  That  the 
rept»rt  of  a  strike  of  this  magnitude  should  have  l>een 
common  property  t>utside  six  months  before  the  excite- 
ment Is  clear  proof  that  the  world's  acute  attack  of 
insanity  was  caused  by  the  adroit  manipulation  of  the 
story  of  the  miners*  arrival  by  sensational  newspapers, 
as  the  result  of  rivalry  and  to  boom  the  Alaska  outfit- 
ting business.  . 

.'298 


THE    FIRST    Ni:\VS    OF    BONANZA 

But  where  were  Henderson  and  his  partners  while  Bo- 
nanza and  Eldorado  were  bein^  staked  ? 

Bonanza  was  staked  into  the  So's  alxn-e  and  Eldo- 
rado  to  No.  ,u~^'r  over  three  miles — when  a  party  of 
miners,  including;:  Georyfe  Wilson  and  James  MoNamee, 
went  over  the  divide  to  (lold  Bottom,  where  Henderson 
was  still  work  in  jj. 

Henderson  asked  them  where  they  were  from.  They 
replied,  **  Bonanza  Creek." 

Henderson  says  that  he  did  not  want  to  display  his 
ignorance.  He  had  never  heard  of  *'  I5onanza  "  Creek. 
At  length  he  ventured  to  ask  where  **  Bonanza"  Creek 
was.     They  pointed  over  the  hill. 

"  *  Rabbit  Creek  !'     What  have  you  got  there  ?" 

**  We  have  the  biggest  thing  in  the  world." 

*•  Who  found  it  ?" 

*•  McCormick." 

It  is  said  Henderson  threw  ilown  his  shovel  and  went 
and  sat  on  the  bank,  so  sick  at  heart  that  it  was  some 
time  before  he  could  speak. 

There  was  nothing  left  for  Henderson.  Many  anoth- 
er man  would  have  been  utterly  discouraged.  It  is  true, 
however,  that  there  was  very  rich  ground  for  a  mile 
farther  up  on  Eldorado,  but  the  extent  of  the  richness 
t»f  the  new  creeks  was  not  then  susjK'cted.  Nor  did  Hen- 
tlerson's  ill-fortune  end  here.  He  had  Ik'cu  over  the 
ridge,  U{X)n  a  large  fork  of  Oold  lioitom,  and  made 
discoveries,  t>ne  of  which  amounted  to  35  cents  to  the 
|>an.  He  staked  a  claim  there,  according  to  the  law  then 
in  force— one  full  claim,  and  another  to  which  he  was  en- 
titled by  virtue  of  discovery.  After  cleaning  up  on  CJold 
Bottom  and  dividing  the  money  between  his  partners, 
he  staked  a  discoverer's  double  claim  and  started  for  For- 
ty-Mile, as  winter  was  coming  on.     On  the  way  he  met 

299 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


Andrew  Hunker,  a  German  by  birth,  who  had  slaked  and 
recorded  No.  31  below  on  Bonanza  Creek,  and  Charles 
Johnson,  an  Ohio  man,  who  had  staked  No.  43  l>elo\v  on 
the  same  creek.  They  told  Henderson  that  they  had  made 
a  iliscovery  of  $3  to  the  pan  on  the  other  fork  of  Hender- 
son's** (»old  Bottom."  They  had  staked  l)etween  them  Dis- 
covery and  No.  1  above  and  No.  i   below,  on  September 


STRIPPINC.   THE   MfCK  OFF    "SIMMER   DUUiINt;*         ' 

6th.  This  was  two  miles  below  Henderson's  discovery. 
They  told  Henderson  they  thought  he  could  not  hold 
Discovery  as  against  them,  and  as  their  new  Hnd  was 
apparently  better  than  his  own,  he  staked  No.  3  abovj. 
This  fork  was  first  called  Hunker's  Fork  of  (iold  Bottom, 
and  was  so  shown  on  maps  of  that  time.  But  as  the 
subsequent  stakinjj  bej^an  at  Hunker's  discovery,  the 
whole  creek  to  its  mouth  at  the  Klondike  was  recorded 
as  Hunker  Creek, Gold  Bott«»m  lx.'cominga  fork  of  Hunker 

300 


TOO   MUCH    LAW 

Creek.  At  Bear  Creek,  between  Hunker  and  the  Yukon, 
where  S<.)I()nic)n  Marpak,  a  Russian  Finn,  ha'.l  just  maile  a 
discovery,  Henderson  stopped  and  staked  a  claim.  When 
he  reached  Forty-Mile,  Henderson  learned  that  instead 
of  being  allowed  a  claim  on  each  separate  creek,  a  new 
mining  regulation  just  receiver  from  Ottawa  provided 
that  no  person  could  hold  m'^re  than  one  claim  in  a  min- 
ing **  district,"  the  KU)ndi!ve  River  and  all  its  tril)utaries 
being  considered  a  "district."  Sixty  days  from  the  time 
of  staking  was  allowed  in  which  to  record,  and  Henders<»n 
applied,  he  maintains,  within  the  time,  and  there  is  no 
reason  for  doubting  his  general  statement.  Although  his 
record  is  imi)erfect,  much  latitude  must  be  allowed  men 
who  are  isobled  for  months  and  ncnressarily  have  hazy 
ideas  of  d.ices.  In  general  there  is  no  doubt  but  that 
at  the  ti:ne  Henderson  drove  his  stakes  he  was  entitled 
to  eithwT  four  or  five  claims,  according  as  he  cht»se  his 
locations,  on  Hunker  Creek,  and  the  law  which  thus  de- 
prived him  came  into  force  between  the  lime  he  staked 
and  the  day  he  reached  Forty-Mile.  And,  I  woulil  ask, 
how  could  Henderson — and  I  wouK!  include  all  of  his 
class,  the  hardy  prospectors  who  were  the  real  develo|>- 
ers  of  the  Yukon,  who  have  given  to  Canada  all  that  is 
at  present  shown  to  be  of  value  there — how  could  he 
have  made  the  original  discoveries,  that  paved  the  way 
for  the  development  of  the  great  riches  of  Klondike,  if 
he  had  remained,  say,  at  Forty  -  Mile  town,  where  he 
could  have  kept  pi>sted  on  changes  in  the  mining  law 
made  from  time  to  time  at  Ottawa  ? 

Hunker's  discovery  being  belter  than  his  own,  Hen- 
derson recorded  No.  3  alone.  He  was  laid  up  that  win- 
ter, unable  to  work,  from  an  injury  he  met  with  on  Indian 
River.  In  the  spring,  far  from  being  disheartened,  and 
with  energ}'  and  faith  characteristic  of  the  man,  he  took 

JOI 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

his  tcx>ls,  lx)at,  and  some  provisions  and  went  up  the 
Klondike  forty  miles,  to  a  larjj^e  tributary  then  called 
**Too  Much  GoUl"  but  known  now  as  "Flat"  Creek, 
prospectinjj.  He  soon  returned  and  prt)cc*edeil  to  a  larj::e 
creek,  two  miles  below  the  mouth  of  Stewart  River,  and, 
eleven  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  made  a  discov- 
ery of  lo  cents  to  the  f>an,the  creek  bein^  subsetjuently 
named  '*  Henderson  "  Creek.  From  there  he  ascended  the 
Stewart  River  a  lonji^  distance,  prospecting;.  I^ing  favor- 
ably impressed  by  the  outlook,  he  staked  a  town-site  at 
the  mouth  of  Mc^uesten  Creek,  eij;hty  miles  from  the 
mouth  of  Stewart,  and  on  his  return  made  an  applica- 
tion for  the  same  to  Ottawa.  For  some  cause  he  re- 
ceived no  reply  to  the  application.  (The  town-site  has 
since  been  taken  up  and  stores  built  there.)  Return inij 
to  the  new  camp  which  had  sprunjj  up  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Klondike,  he  tcx>k  steamer,  intendinjj  ti>  leave  the 
country,  but  was  frozen  in  with  the  rest  of  the  refugees 
at  Circle  City.  He  was  under  the  doctor's  care  all  winter. 
Obliged  to  realize  some  money,  he  sold  No.  3  abt)ve  Dis- 
covery on  Hunker  Creek  for  $3000 — a  mere  fraction  of  its 
value.  Henderson,  miner  that  he  is,  would  have  worketl 
this  claim  had  he  been  able  to  do  so,  and  he  would  still 
have  found  himself  in  possession  of  a  comfortable  fort- 
une, and  thereby  received  some  comf)ensation  for  his 
many  discouragements. 

Although  he  did  not  himself  make  the  discovery  on 
Bonanza,  he  was  yet  the  direct  cause  and  means  of  that 
discovery  being  made.  He  was  not  the  victim  c»f  his  own 
negligence  or  failure  tograspan  opportunity.  He  created 
the  opportunity,  and  was  prevented  from  profiting  by  it. 
It  is  beside  the  point,  but  yet  of  interest,  that  I  have  it, 
on  Henderson's  own  word,  which  I  am  not  disposed  to 
question,  that  it  was  his  intention,  when  done  with  (iold 

J02 


F 


pn^imiii  mi  I  II.  iijj  ws 


CREDIT   TO    HENDERSON 

Bottom,  to  go  down  Ral)bit  Creek  pr^>>pectin^.  When 
the  news  of  the  wonderful  richness  of  &>nanza  burst  upon 
the  world,  Henderson  was  forjjotten.  Mr.  Ogilvie,  then 
at  Forty- Mile,  kept  his  government  posted  concerning 
the  devel«>pments  of  that  fall.  Mr.  O-jjilvie  gave  the  best 
information  at  his  command.  Carmack  had  made  the 
discovery  on  Bonanza  Creek  :  Henders*>n*s  part  was  not 
then  understood,  and  Henderson  was  nc  man  to  press 
himself  forward.  But  later  Mr.  Ogilvie  gave  the  man 
full  credit  in  the  following  words ; 

••The  Klondike  was  prospected  for  fortv  miles  up  in  1887,  with- 
out anything  being  found.'and  again  in  iS93.vith  a  similar  lack 
of  reiitult;  but  the  difference  is  seen  when  the  ri^ht  course  is 
taken,  and  this  was  led  up  to  by  Robert  Hcndcrstin.  This  man 
is  a  bom  prospector,  and  you  could  not  persuade  him  to  stay  on 
even  the  richest  claim  on  Bonanza.  He  started  up  in  a  small 
boat  to  spend  this  summer  and  winter  en  Stewart  River  pros- 
pecting. This  is  the  stuff  the  true  prospector  is  made  of,  and  I 
am  proud  to  say  he  is  a  Canadian.*'* 

When  I  first  met  Henderson  I  was  impressed  by  the 
earnestness  of  the  man.  I  asked  him  if  he  was  not 
discouraged  by  all  that  had  happened. 

"  No,"  replied  he,  "  there  are  as  rich  mines  yet  to  be 
discovered  as  any  that  have  been  found." 

I  was  not  quite  sure  that  he  believed  that,  but  it  was 
characteristic  of  the  man  to  say  so. 

In  October,  1898.  I  saw  Henders*>n  for  the  last  time. 
He  had  just  reached  Seattle  from  t!ie  Yukon.  Unsus- 
pictous  and  trusting,  he  had  been  n>bbcd  on  the  steamer 
of  all  the  money  he  had — $1100.  He  had  one  thing  left. 
It  was  the  golden  (carpenter's)  rule  and  myrtle-leaves 
badge  of  the  Yukon  Order  of  Pionerrs,  of  which  he  was 

•  Extract  from  V'ictoria  Colonist,  Norembcr  6,  1897. 
U  J05 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

a  member.  For  some  reason  he  insisted  on  pinning  it 
himself  ujwn  my  vest,  saying,  "Vou  keep  this.  I  will 
lose  it  too.  I  am  not  fit  to  live  among  civilized  men." 
He  returned  to  Aspen,  where  his  wife  and  child  were, 
to  work  again  at  the  same  mine  where  he  worked  six 
years  ago,  !>efore  he  went  into  the  Yukon.  Surely,  if  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior  could  from  Ottawa  grant  hun- 
dreds of  miles  of  claims,  supposed  to  be  of  great  value, 
to  men  who  never  saw  and  never  will  see  the  Yukon. 
surely  it  would  be  a  graceful  act  for  him  yet  to  do  some- 
thing for  this  man,  who  scorns  to  be  a  beggar  and  to 
whom  the  offer  of  a  i)ension  would  be  an  insult  as  long 
as  he  can  tramp  and  dig  and  look.  Canada  owes  not  less 
to  Henderson  than  California  to  Marshall,  the  discoverer 
of  gold  at  Sutter's  mill. 

The  miners  who  knew  have  always  given  Henderson 
cretlit.  "Siwash  George  would  be  fishing  yet  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Klondike  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Bob  Hen- 
derson,** 


A  DAWSON   BACC.\C£   EXTRLSS 


CHAPTER   XV 


The  Staking  of  Bonanza — Luck  ordood  Judgment  ? — Wild  Scenes  at  the 
First  Clcan-u|>— Large  Pans — How  LKK)railu  \^a^  Stakeii  and  Named 

FTER  Bonanza  began  to  show  up  richer 
than  anything  before  known  in  the 
Yukon,  many  who  did  not  believe 
the  ground  was  particularly  valu- 
able until  the  true  nature  of  the  strike  was 
made  evident  by  the  labor  of  others  began 
to  realize  what  good  judgment  they  had 
shown  in  picking  out  such  "choice  loca- 
tions." To  those  who  by  mere  chance  held 
their  claims  until  after  the  first  work  was 
done  it  matters  little  that  the  first  opinion  of  Klondike 
was  poor,  but  upon  those  who  thought  the  amount  of  a 
year's  ** grub-stake"  fair  pay  for  a  few  days'  hard  travel- 
ling the  sight  of  fortunes  taken  from  ground  they  them- 
selves had  staked  can  well  be  imagined.  If  the  truth 
were  to  be  confessed,  the  reason  there  were  not  more 
sales  was  that  there  were  few  buyers.  As  the  claims 
"proved  up,"  the  buyer,  conservative  and  cautious,  was 
nearly  always  a  lap  behind  the  seller,  and  when  prices 
rose  into  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  it  is  no  won- 
der there  was  no  basis  of  calculation.  It  was  as  easy  to 
believe  there  was  a  million  or  four  millions  as  one  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  in  a  single  claim.  When  a  rich 
claim  on  upper  Bonanza  sold  for  §3500  at  Forty-Mile,  a 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

well-known  old-timer  left  the  room  where  the  sale  was 
being  negotiated,  saying  he  '*  wouldn't  stay  and  see  an 
honest  man  buncoed." 

No.  31  Eldorado  was  sold  by  the  original  stakers  for 
$100,  $80  being  cash.  Within  six  months  it  sold  for 
$31,000,  and  one  year  later  the  owner  refused  $150,000. 
One -half  of  No.  30  Eldorado,  it  is  said,  was  sold  for  a 
sack  of  flour.  The  owners,  big  Alec  McDonald  and 
Billy  Chappel,  did  not  think  enough  of  it  to  work  it 
themselves,  but  rather  late  in  the  season  put  it  out  on  a 
**  lay,"  and  t<K)k  a  *'lay"  themselves  on  another  claim. 
The  "laymen"  struck  it  the  Hrst  hole,  and  out  of  thirty 
burnings  took  out  $40,000. 

On  account  of  the  distance  to  the  seat  of  the  recorder, 
the  miners  agreed  upon  a  temp<3rary  recorder  from 
among  their  own  number  (after  the  United  States  cus- 
tom). They  paid  this  man  $2  for  each  claim,  agreeing 
to  pay  in  due  season  the  $15  required  by  Canadian  law. 
When  he  began  to  measure  the  claims,  by  some  trick 
a  40-foot  rope  was  intrwluced  instead  of  a  50-foot  one, 
which  shortened  each  claim  by  50  feet  or  more,  and 
left  fractions  between,  which  by  this  time  were  of  value. 
These  were  seized  upon  and  staked  the  same  as  full 
claims,  but  when  the  deception  was  found  out  there  was 
a  big  row,  and  Mr.  William  Ogilvie  was  called  from 
Forty-Mile  to  settle  the  trouble.  Mr.  Ogilvie,  being  a 
magistrate,  took  testimony ;  the  men  repented,  confessed, 
and  were  forgiven ;  and  then  Mr.  Ogilvie  made  a  partial 
survey  of  Bonanza  and  Eldorado.  But  many  of  the 
claims  on  Bonanza  were  short. 

One  of  these  short  claims,  however,  was  not  the  fault  of 
the  official  measurer.  It  was  on  lower  Bonanza — I  never 
knew  the  exact  spot;  it  was  where  the  creek  twisted 
very  much  and  the  valley  was  broad.     The  staker  was 

y>8 


44 


DICK    LOWE'S   LUCK 

a  mounted  policeman.  He  should  have  measured  500 
feet  in  the  direction  of  the  valle\\  but  not  l)eing  able 
to  see  the  direction,  perhaps  on  account  of  the  thick 
woods,  he  followed  the  winding  creek.  When  the  sur- 
veyor threw  lines  across  the  valley  corres[X)nding  to  his 
upper  and  lower  stakes,  the  p<.>or  policeman  had  six  feet 
less  than  a  claim  ! 

Micky"    Wilkins   staked    a    claim    near    Discovery. 

Micky"  was  not  one  of  those  who  were  thrown  into 
b<^ats  and  brought  along  against  their  will  from  Forty- 
Mile  in  the  first  stampede,  but  he  it^uis  one  of  a  party 
who  helped  tie  a  drunken  man  and  throw  him  into  a  boat. 
**  Micky  "sold  out  for  a  few  hundred  dollars.  When  the 
claim  was  surveyed  the  new  owner  found  only  a  few 
inches.  I  felt  sorry  for  all  who  sold  at  the  very  start 
until  I  met  "Micky." 

A  fraction  of  a  claim  would  hardly  seem  worth  having; 
but  Jt)hn  Jacob  Astor  Dusel,  who  staked  Xo.  2  above  t>n 
Bonanza,  was  a  good  miner,  and  he  wanted  to  take  in  the 
mouth  of  Skookum  Gulch,  Dick  Lowe  put  the  tape  to 
Dusel's  claim  and  found  it  ab<iut  7S  feet  ttxi  long,  and  tiH)k 
for  himself  a  narrow  slice  directly  opp«»site  the  mouth 
of  Skookum.  He  did  not  think  much  of  it  at  the 
time.  He  wanted  §900  for  it.  Xo  one  was  so  foolish  as 
to  pay  so  much  for  the  narrow  strip  of  ground.  He 
tried  to  let  it  out  on  a  "  lay,"  but  no  one  wanted  to  work 
it  for  an  interest.  He  had  to  work  it  himself,  \xH^r  man  I 
The  first  hole  was  put  down  by  his  present  foreman,  and 
he  did  not  find  a  cent.  Further  account  of  what  is  proba- 
bly the  richest  piece  of  ground  in  the  whi>le  Klondike 
must  be  left  till  later,  when  he  was  sending  the  gold 
down  on  pack-horses. 

On  Eldorado  the  claims  were  almost  all  over  500  feet. 
It  was  as  if  they  were  measured  by  guess  while  on  the 

J09 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

run,  and  then  a  lot  more  added  to  make  sure.  No.  37 
was  420  feet  too  long.  Several  fractions  are  from  100 
to  160  feet  in  length.  Sometimes  the  second  man  did 
not  measure  his  fraction  correctly,  and  a  third  man 
found  and  staked  another  slice.  Nothing  on  EUlo- 
rado   was   too   small.     There    is   one    10 -foot   fraction 


y  L  iliiW.|M|I^IUpWi«yf  J.p|fj!^iMig|JJIilJ^  ■l.l.-./.W'  '--W  H'WJ'"S.*>»l'j 


■'%.-*' T 


■<r«^- 


^--^^^1^ 


$^»5X?wi^  ^^  -^; 


SU.ia.'^G  THE  WINTER   Dl'MPS 

thought  to  be  worth  $10,000  to  $20,000.  A  ij-foot  frac- 
tion was  found  next  to  No.  14,  It  was  so  narrow  that 
the  owner  had  to  take  a  *'  lay  "  of  37  feet  on  the  adjoin- 
ing claim  in  order  to  work  it. 

Nor  was  all  the  luck  confined  to  the  mines.  A  butch- 
er named  **  Long  Shorty,"  otherwise  Thorp,  drove  cat- 
tle in  over  the  Dal  ton  trail,  and  was  trying  to  reach 
Forty-Mile  late  in  the  fall  with  the  meat  on  a  raft  in  the 
ice.     He  was  frozen  in  at  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike, 

3«o 


A    RACE    FOR    A    CLAIM 

only  to  discover  there  a  bipj  mining -camp.  That  beef 
was  a  godsend  to  the  miners,  as  provisions  were  vtfry 
scarce.  Flour  had  to  be  freighted  with  dogs  from  For- 
ty-Mile, and  sold  at  from  SUo  to  $60  a  fifty-pound  sack. 
Beef  was  $1  to  §j  a  pound.  Mining -tools  alst)  were 
scarce,  shovels  bringing  §17  to  $18  each.  But  wages 
were  proportionately  high,  $1.50  to  $2  an  hour  being 
paid  for  common  labor,  and  often  not  to  be  had  at  that 
price.  Wages  w^ere  high,  not  because  of  the  expense  of 
living,  but  because  of  the  opportunities  for  individual 
effort. 

The  first  hole  to  be  put  down  by  burning  is  credited 
to  Skookum  Jim.  Pages  ctnild  be  tilled  with  the  finds 
that  day  by  day  were  made  on  those  claims  that  were 
worked  that  winter.  A  personage  known  to  fame  as 
'*Swiftwater  Bill"  took  a  loo-foot  "lay  '*  on  No.  13  Eldo- 
rado. Seven  holes  were  put  down  before  the  pay  was 
struck  (though  many  think  there  was  pay  in  one  of  the 
first  holes,  and  that  they  filled  it  up).  At  any  rate,  the 
buyer  .asked  the  price — $45,000 — and  with  six  others  he 
bought  the  claim,  paid  $10,000  down,  put  in  a  rocker, 
and  paid  for  the  claim  in  six  weeks. 

Any  claims  not  recorded  within  sixty  days  were  open 
for  relocation.  There  were  several  such  claims  left  va- 
cant by  men  who  considered  them  nt>  goo<l,  and  who 
recorded  elsewhere.  Such  a  claim  was  Xo.  40  above 
on  Bonanza.  It  was  generally  known  that  the  clainl 
was  open,  and  a  mounted  policeman  was  there,  with 
watch  in  hand,  to  announce  when  exactly  twelve  o'clock 
midnight  came.  It  was  in  January.  There  were  several 
parties  on  foot,  and  two  men  had  dog  outfits.  Promptly 
at  midnight  all  hands  staked  and  started.  One  Lereaux 
and  a  companion,  Vaughan,  ran  to  No.  48  above,  where 
one  team   was  waiting.     Lowerie,  the  other  dog  -  man, 

311 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

started  on  the  run  for  Dawson,  where  an  Indian  with 
five  or  six  dogs  was  in  waiting.     Lereaux  had  the  same 
number.     At   Dawson   they  were  not  far  apart.     Both 
were  splendid  teams,  but  dogs  are  poor  things  to  race 
with,  as  every  one  knows.     A  dog  has  no  ambition  to 
pass  ahead,  like  a  horse;  he  prefers  to  follow.     Besides, 
when  the  trail  is  narrow,  it  is  hard  for  t)ne  team  to  pass 
another.     They   probably  could  not    have   passed  each- 
other   at    all,   but    it    happened   that   every  time   they 
came  to  a  cabin  the  leading  team  insisted  on  turning  out, 
whereupon  the  hind  team  would  seize  the  op[>ortunity 
to  dash  by.     When  they  reached   Forty-Mile,  Lowerie 
and  the  Indian  were  ahead.     The  Indian  runner  did  not 
know  the  recorder's  office  was  across  the  creek,  or  else  the 
dogs  determined  to  turn  into  Forty-Mile  town.    Lowerie 
saw  the  mistake,  jumped  from  his  sleigh,  and  made  for 
the  recorder's  office  on  the  dead  run,  with  Lereaux  just 
even  with  him.     Both  men  reached  the  office  at  the  same 
moment  and  fell  against  the  door.     They  were  Inuh  so 
exhausted  that  for  a  while  they  could  not  say  what  they 
had  come  for..    When  they  recovered  sufficient  breath 
to  announce  their   business.  Captain    Constantine   told 
them  he  would  wait  to  see  if  there  were  others  behind; 
and,  no  one  else  coming,  he  divided  the  claim  between 
them. 

A  detachment  of  mounted  police  came  up  to  Dawson 
in  the  late  winter  or  spring,  bringing  the  record-books 
with  them.  Certificates  of  registry  of  that  time  were 
in  manuscript,  there  being  no  printed  blanks  until  later. 

Wild  scenes  followed  the  clean-up.  Men  with  never 
a  penny  to  spare  in  their  lives  were  suddenly  made  rich. 
There  was  no  real  disorder,  there  were  no  shootings,  no 
hold-ups,  none  of  the  things  associated  in  the  popular 
mind  with  a  real  live  mining-camp.    Something  in  the 

3'2 


*r^' 


m 

s 


3        O 


3    ;i 


a. 
L 

e 


RIOTOUS    SCENES 

Yukon  air  discourages  all  that.  It  could  not  be  the 
presence  of  the  police,  for  there  were  no  |>olice  at  Circle 
City,  and  only  a  baker's  dozen  at  Dawson,  (iitld  flowed, 
and  when  it  would  not  flow  it  was  sowed,  literally  sowed, 
broadcast  in  drunken  debauch  over  the  sawdust  fl<M»rs  of 
the  sal(X)ns  as  if  there  were  n<»  end  to  the  supply,  (iold 
was  panned  out  of  the  sawdust — whole  saloonfuls  of  men 
would  be  asked  up  to  drink,  at  half  a  dollar  a  drink. 
Sometimes  orders  were  given  to  call  in  the  town,  and 
then  the  bartender  would  go  out  into  the  street  and  call 
cvervbodv  in,  and  all  would  have  to  drink.  Whenever 
one  of  the  new  "millionaires"  was  backward  in  treating, 
which  was  not  often,  the  crowd— always  a  gtHul-natured 
one — would  pick  him  up  by  the  legs  and  arms  and  swing 
him  like  a  battering-ram  against  the  side  of  the  house 
until  he  cried  out  *'  Enough  !**  There  had  never  l)een 
seen  anything  like  it  before,  nor  will  anything  quite  to 
equal  it  ever  be  seen  again. 

The  afore-mentionetl  "Swift water  Bill,"  whose  chief 
claim  to  attention  seems  to  have  been  the  way  he  "  blew 
in"  money  and  the  ease  with  which— speaking  in  the  ver- 
nacular of  the  mining-camp — his  "leg  could  be  pulled" 
by  the  fair  se.x,  spent  $40,000,  and  had  to  borrow  $5000 
to  go  outside  with.  His  claim  was  gi>od  for  it,  though. 
He  quarrelled  with  his  "  lady  friend,"  and,  observing  her 
order  eggs  in  a  restaurant,  he  bought  up  every  egg  in 
town^no  fewer  than  nine  hundred  in  all — at  a  cost  of 
$1  each.  He  wore  his  wukluks  in  the  streets  of  San 
Francisco,  threw  money  into  the  streets,  and,  in  other 
ways  ostentatiously  displayed  his  new  wealth,  his  vanity 
and  craving  for  notoriety  making  him  ridiculous  even 
in  Dawson. 

How  much  gold  came  out  of  the  ground  that  first 
summer  can  never  be  known.     Two  and  a  half  millions 

3«5 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

is  probably  not  far  from  the  mark.  The  richness  of 
the  fifteen  miles  reported  by  Mr,  Ogilvie  was  much 
exagfgerated.  The  pans  of  dirt  that  he  saw  washed  out 
gave  him  reason  for  believing,  upon  computation,  that 
there  might  be,  as  he  stated,  actually  $4,000,000  in  each 
claim.  But  these  were  not  averages.  Far,  far  from  it. 
Nor  was  the  enormous  cost  of  working  the  richest,  yet 
costliest,  diggings  in  the  Yukon  taken  into  considera- 
tion, as  it  should  have  been;  this  might  have  prevented 
the  im|>)siiion  of  the  ini(|uitous  laws  of  a  Canadian  cabi- 
net, confessedly  ignorant  of  the  rudiments  of  gold-placer 
mining,  and  who,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  lost  their 
heads  in  contemplating  the  richness  of  the  cotmtry. 

J.  J.  Clements  panned  out  of  four  pans  $2000,  the 
largest  being  rejM^rted  at  $775.  Clarence  Berry  showed 
gold  in  bottles  that  he  said  represented,  resjK'ctivelv, 
$560, §230.  and  $175  pans.  There  were  many  others  like 
these.  Of  course,  they  were  picked  and  scraped  nrt*  bed- 
rock, and  did  not  represent  average  dirt;  $5,  even  $1, 
** straight,"  as  it  is  called,  would  be  enormously  rich. 

If  the  pay-streak  were  100  feet  wide  and  3  feet  deep, 
there  would  be  150,000  cubic  feet,  eipial  to,  say,  675,000 
pans  of  dirt.  Think  what  an  average  of  $1  to  the  pan, 
or  even  25  cents,  would  be! 

"Jimmie  the  Tough,'*  otherwise  McMann,  got  a  "lay" 
on  Xo.  15  above  on  Ik)nanza,  sold  dump  in  spring  for 
$35,000,  sptfnt  $28,000  in  one  bar-bill  alone,  and  went  out 
with  $6000  to  San  Francisco;  returning,  landed  at  Dyca 
with  $1200,  invested  in  whiskey  at  $25  a  gallon,  landed  at 
Dawson  with  $5X8,  got  drunk  and  spent  $500  in  one  week, 
and  then  went  down  to  Fort  Yukon  after  grub  with  the 
rest  of  the  crowd. 

One  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  dollars  came  out  of 
the  Berry-Anton  claim  No.  6  and  the  fraction.    On  No.  1 1 

316 


HOW    ELDORADO   WAS   STAKED 

Eldorado  five  box -lengths  cleaned  up  $61,000.  Some 
say  that  they  took  out  $15,000  to  $20,000  to  a  box-len^tli, 
one  man,  two  shifts,  shovelling  twenty  hours.  There 
•were  sf>ots  on  Bonanza  as  rich  as  Eldorado,  but  not  s»> 
even  and  regular.  One  thousand  dollars  to  the  foot  is 
the  top  figure,  on  an  average,  for  best  of  Eldorado,  but 
the  cost  is  one-third  for  taking  it  out.  The  first  year 
showed  nuggets  of  all  sizes  up  to  one  of  $585  (estimated 
at  I  oz.  =  §17)  from  Xo.  36  Eldorado. 

Not  all  the  fortunate  ones  started  for  civilization  with 
their  new  wealth.  Manv  remained  to  work  their  claims, 
and  these — perhaps  not  less  happy  or  e.xultant — were 
not  heard  of  outside  in  the  excitement  that  accompanied 
the  breaking  of  the  good  news  to  the  world.  The  bulk 
of  the  gold,  amounting  to  about  $1,500,000,  went  out  to 
St.  Michael's,  where  waited  the  good  steamer  Portiami^ 
of  the  North  American  Transportation  and  Trading 
Company,  and  the  Exahior^  of  the  Alaska  Commercial 
Company,  crowded  with  friends  and  relatives  of  the 
returning  miners.  Others,  in  parties  of  three  and  five, 
took  to  their  poling-boats,  and  it  was  some  of  these,  and 
still  others  fleeing  for  their  lives  from  the  threatened 
famine,  that  we  met  on  our  way  in. 

HOW    ELDORADO   WAS   STAKED   AND   NAMED 

.  The  following  account  of  how  Eldorado  was  staked 
and  named  was  given  me  by  William  D.  Johns,  formerly 
a  newspaper  man,  but  now  a  Klondike  miner.  Mr.  Johns 
was  in  the  neighborhood  of  Forty- Mile  when  word  of 
Carmack's  discovery  arrived,  and  was  one  of  those  who 
did  not  believe  the  report.  He  was,  therefore,  not  in 
the  first  stampede. 

**  Bonanza  was  staked  as  far  down  as  the  8o's  and  as 
far  up  as  the  jo's,  but  I  determined  to  go  anyway  and 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

try  some  of  the  *pups,*  believing  it  is  never  to«  late  in  a 
camp  as  new  as  this. 

**  Fred  Bruceth,  the  man  with  whom  I  planned  to  go, 
said  it  was  no  use.  So  when,  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
that  we  were  to  start  from  Forty-Mile,  we  found  that 
our  boat  had  been  stolen,  he  threw  up  his  hands  and  re- 
fused to  go.  But  upon  inquiry  I  found  that  it  was  still 
possible  for  us  to  go.  I  found  some  men  who  owned  a 
boat,  and  they  told  us  that  if  certain  parties  to  whom 
they  had  promised  the  use  of  it  did  not  return  in  fifteen 
minutes  we  could  take  the  boat. 

**  The  men  did  not  turn  up,  and  in  half  an  hour  we 
were  towing  the  boat  up  the  Yukon.  Only  two  weeks 
before  we  had  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike  and 
camped  on  the  site  of  the  present  Dawson.  At  that  very 
time  Siwash  George  was  making  his  discovery  on  Bonan- 
za—  of  course  unknown  to  us.  On  the  thirtl  day  we 
reached  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike,  and  cam|)ed  in  our 
old  camping- place,  and  the  next  morning,  after  making 
a  cache  of  our  supplies,  and  taking  a  pack,  crossed  the 
mouth  of  the  Klondike  to  the  Indian  village  (where  Klon- 
dike City  now  is),  and  then  took  a  trail  which  leads  over 
the  hills  and  along  the  ridge  parallel  with  Bonanza. 
After  a  hard  tramp  we  reached  Discovery  in  the  after- 
noon. Siwash  George  and  three  Indians  were  working 
at  the  side  of  the  bank,  sluicing  with  two  bo.xes  in  the 
crudest  sort  of  way.  I  took  a  pan,  and  panned  my  first 
gold  in  Klondike,  off  the  side  of  the  bank,  getting  50 
cents.  We  went  on  to  No.  3  above  Discovery,  and  made 
camp  under  a  brush  shelter.  That  night  two  men,  An- 
ton (his  full  name  is  Anton  Stander,  an  Austrian)  and 
Frank  Keller,  whom  we  had  seen  before  on  the  Yukon, 
came  to  our  camp,  and  sat  by  our  fire  for  an  hour  and  a 
half  talking.    Anton  told  us  their  camp  was  farther  u| 

3,8 


2 


» 
e 


f 


-     X 


a.    X 

!  P 


I* 


3 
U 
3 


c 
;; 


**SKIM. diggings;'   *'N0   GOOD" 

on  «p|>er  Bonanza  we  inferred.  They  said  they  had 
found  lo  cents  to  the  pan  on  upper  Honanza,  and  they 
advised  us  to  try  there. 

**  Next  morning:  we  took  our  packs,  and  with  two 
others,  Knut  Halstead  and  John  Ericson,  both  Norwe- 
gians, prospected  alonj:j  till  we  ^ot  into  the  30's.  There 
we  left  everything:  but  picks,  shovels,  and  pans,  and  went 
up  into  the  70's,  a  distance  of  rather  niore  than  seven 
miles  from  Discovery.  We  prospected  as  we  went,  but 
found  nothing.  The  boys  agjreed  in  declaring:  that  if  the 
ground  had  not  been  already  staked  they  W(ndd  nt)t  take 
the  trouble  to  do  so  themselves.  We  returned  to  camp, 
and  decided  to  prospect  a  large  *pup*  that  came  in  just 
above  on  No.  7.  Our  attention  had  been  drawn  to  this 
*  pup  *  before  we  got  to  DiscH>very,  on  the  day  of  our  ar- 
rival, by  meeting  two  men  going  down  the  creek. 

"They  were  a  party  of  four  Miller  Creek  men.  We 
asked  them,  *  How's  the  creek  ?* 

***No  good,*  *Skim  diggings,'  *  Bar  diggings,*  *  Moose 
flat,*  were  the  answers  received. 

***  Did  you  stake  on  the  creek  ?*  we  asked. 

'••No;  they  replied. 

***  Where  are  Demars  and  Louis  Empkins?*  we  asked, 
referring  to  the  two  other  members  of  their  party. 

***Oh,  they  have  gone  up  a  "pup"  to  stake.* 
Why  didn't  you  stake?' 

Oh,  to  hell  with  the  "pups!"*  was  their  answer  as 
they  went  away  down  the  creek. 

**  Pretty  soon  we  met  Demars  and  Empkins.  *  Where 
have  you  been  ?*  we  asked. 

On  that  "pup;"  they  replied. 
Any  good  ?* 

Don*t  kn»)w  anything  about  it ;  as  long  as  we  were 
up,  we  thought  we  might  as  well  stake  somewhere,'  and 
X  331 


44  4 
44  4 


44  t 
44  4 


THE    K  L  ()  X  I)  I  K  K    S  T  A  M  V  K  I)  i: 

they  hurried  on  after  their  companions.     They  were  rich 
men,  but  they  tlit!  not  know  it. 

"Next  morninj^,  before  we  were  ready  to  start,  Keller 
came  down  to  our  cainj)  dressed  in  corduroys  and  with  a 
rifle  on  his  shoulder,  as  if  he  were  starting  out  on  a  hunt. 
He  inquired  how  we  had  made  out.  We  told  him  wc  had 
found  nothinjj.  He  still  favored  Bonanza;  he  thouijht  it 
was  all  right.  We  asked  him  where  his  camp  was  ;  we 
had  not  seen  it  the  day  before.  'Over  on  the  other  side,' 
he  replied,  indicating  the  way,  and  we  thoij.^ht  no  more 
of  it  then.  *  Where  are  you  going  to-day  ?'  he  asked  us. 
*To  prospect  that  "pup,"*  I  replied;  *do  you  know 
anything  about  it  ?* 

***Oh,  I  found  a  rtve-cent  piece*  on  rim  rock,  about  a 
mile  up.* 

**  He  left  us.  We  still  thought  he  was  off  on  a  little 
hunt. 

**  We  started  towards  the  *pup.'  When  we  reached  the 
mouth,  Fred  Bruceth  st(»pped  and  pointed  to  the  brtK>k. 

*'*Some  one  is  working;,  the  water  is  muddy/  said  he. 

**  Like  hunters  who  have  scented  game,  wc  lajjscd  into 
silence,  and,  with  eyes  and  ears  alert,  kept  on.  We  had 
gone  only  a  little  way  when  suddenly  we  came  u|x»n 
four  men.  Three  of  them  were  standing  arnund  the 
fourth,  who  was  holding  a  gold-pan.  All  were  intently 
looking  into  the  pan.  The  man  with  the  pan  was  Anton, 
and  the  other  three  were  J.  J.  Clements,  Frank  Phiscater^ 
and  old  man  Whipple.  When  they  l«)oked  up  and  saw 
us,  they  acted  like  a  cat  caught  in  a  cream-pitcher.  See- 
ing that  we  had  found  them  out,  they  ltM»sened  up  and 
told  us  all  they  knew.  They  showed  us  then  what  they 
had  in   the  pan.      There  was  not  less   than   50  cents. 

♦  Five  cents  to  the  pan— scant  uaj;es. 

322 


F  A  I  L  U  R  K    O  F   T  Hi:  I  R    K  T  S  K 

While  we  were  talkiiitr*  alon^  v:\mc  KcIKt.  Ho  IkkI  taken 
otf  his  corduroys  ami  was  in  his  \v«>rkiiit::-rloihcs.  his  at- 
tempt to  steer  us  away  havinj;^  been  a  failure.  The  Hve 
men  had  staked  off  their  claims.*  Anton's  was  the  hijj^h- 
est  up  the  creek.  Al>ove  his  were  the  two  claims  that 
Empkins  and  Demar  had  staked. 

**.Anton  told  Ericson  that  he  mivjht  have  his  claim,  as 
he  was  goinjj  to  take  Discovery  claim.  We  all  went  up 
to  stake.  Pretty  soon  Anton  came  all  a-sweati»ii:j  and 
begged  and  pleaded  with  Ericson  for  his  claim  back,  as 
the  old  man  Whipple  had  declared  that  no  one  should 
have  Discovery  but  himself.  Ericson  cut  his  name  off 
the  stakes,  and  Anton  restaked  the  claim — the  present 
No.  6  Eldorado.  Ericson  went  above  Empkins  and  De- 
mars  (Xos.  7  and  8)  and  staked  Xo.  lo.  Bruceth  and  I 
went  on  far  enough  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  a  clash  and 
staked — he  taking  Xo.  ii,and  I  Xo.  12. 

**  Regarding  the  discovery,  it  was  the  custom  in  the 
lower  country — not  only  on  the  American  side,  but  with- 
in Canadian  territory — to  allow  a  discovery  (consetpient- 
ly  a  double  claim)  upon  each  gulch.  But  the  edict  had 
recently  gone  forth  from  Forty-Mile  that  there  could  be 
but  one  discovery  on  a  creek,  and  none  t>n  a  *pup*  of  a 
main  creek.  The  discovery  had  been  allowed  to  Siwa.sh 
George,  so  that  there  could  be  no  discovery  claim  on 
this  fork. 

**  Another  custom  was  that  if  a  person,  after  having 

♦Whipple  was  No.  1  ;  Phi-*raler,  No.  2:  Clements.  No.  4; 
Keller,  No.  5;  and  .\nton.  No.  6.  "  I)is«'over\' "  was  the  present 
No.  3.  Empkins.  in  relating  lo  me  how  he  j;<>t  in  on  KMora<lo. 
said  that  he  and  his  three  compiinions  had  come  u|>  the  **  pup" 
and  found  .-Xnton  and  the  others,  and  they  had  a  small  prospect 
on  the  surface,  but  they  were  toUl  it  was  not  encouraj^in^.  On 
that  account  two  of  the  [Kirty  did  not  stake.  Empkms  s<»ld  a  share 
in  the  claim  to  Fre<l  Hutchinson,  and  last  sprinj;  received  $100,000 
for  the  remaining  interest. 

323 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

staked  in  one  place,  wishi-<l  to  loratc  in  another,  he  must, 
before  he  cunltl  hold  the  M-tond,  ent  his  name  otV  the  first. 
Anton  and  Keller  ha<l  alrea<ly  staked  on  uj^K-r  Bonanza, 
and  Sit  mi^ht  have  Ix-en  sincere  in*  recommendinij  that 
part  of  the  creek  as  jj^hkI.  While,  accordini^  to  old  cus- 
tom, they  might  have  held  a  discovery  on  Eld  >rado,  they 
could  not   legally  do  so  now.      Consequently,  lialstead 


VIEW    rmOM   THF   rOTTOM  OF   A  •'CUT."   SIMMFK    Pir.r.INCS 

{so.  12   ».IJM»KA|M») 


promptly  jumped  the  so-called  *  discovery*  claim  that 
Whipple  was  trying  to  reserve  for  himself,  still  leaving 
him,  however,  with  one  claim  on  the  *  pup,'  iK'sides  his 
Bonanza  claim.  He  was  stoutly  trying  to  hold  all 
three. 

**  A  party  of  Finns  soon  came  along,  heade<l  by  a  man 
named  Cobb.  They  di<l  not  '^talie,  but  went  on  antl  turned 
up  Bonanza.  They  were  ihc  oidy  other  i>ers<jns  on  the 
creek  that  day.     That  night  in  camp  we  discussed  nam- 

524 


NAMED    IT    "ELDORADO- 

inp:  the  neu-  creek.  Old  man  Whipple  wanted  it  called 
*  Whipple  Creek/  But  we  were  rather  hot  at  the  Whip- 
ple crowd  for  having  used  us  so  ill  in  trying  to  steer  us 


ONE  MILLION  nVE  lirM>RKI>  TII«»ts%\I»  IHH  L  \RS  IN  tW»LI>- 
DCST.  IN  NORril  AMKRIfAN  rKAN>P«>il  TAl  iON  AM>  rRAl>> 
l>Ui  C»»MrA.NY*S  WARKHOUSE 


away  from  the  creek;  and, tx^sides, old  man  Whipple  had 
once  tried  to  jump  llalstead  and  Ericson's  claim  on 
American  Creek.     After  several  names  were  mentioned, 

3^5 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Knut  Halstead  sujjgested  '  Eldorado/  and  that  was  the 
name  determined  u[K)n.  I  make  tliis  i)<)int,  as  certain 
later  comers  have  claimed  the  honor  o(  naming  the  creek. 

**  Next  morning  Fred  liruceth  ^(»t  up  at  Hve  o'cU»ck 
and  went  down  after  McKay,  whom  the  miners  had  ap- 
pointed as  their  rectjrder,  letting  out  the  news  on  the  way. 
Among  the  first  to  arrive  were  Cobb  and  his  crowd. 
Hearings  of  the  prospect,  and  kn<»winij  that  the  Whipple 
crowd  had  staked  Bonanza  also,  Cobb  slated  emphatically 
to  Whipple  that  unless  his  crowtl  t<M)k  their  names  off 
Bonanza  he  would  jump  their  claims  here.  Just  then 
Anton,  Clements,  and  Keller  came  up  to  where  we  were 
talking,  and  Bruceth  and  I,  who  felt  that  though  they  had 
tried  to  job  us,  yet  they  really  had  made  the  discovery 
and  were  entitled  to  the  ground,  tried  our  best  to  per- 
suade them  to  go  up  and  cut  off  their  names,  or  they 
would  lose  their  Eldorado  claims — they  certainly  could 
not  hold  both.  Whipple  kept  insisting  that  they  could. 
At  this  juncture  Phiscater  came  along. 

**  He  treated  with  disdain  Cobb's  threat  to  jump  their 
claims,  and  said  he  would  go  and  see  the  recorder. 
McKay  arrived  on  the  scene,  and  he  told  them  that  if 
they  cut  their  names  oft  Bonanza  he  would  put  their 
names  down  on  the  new  creek.  This  Clements,  Anton, 
and  Keller  did. 

**The  first  of  a  gang  of  stam|X'ders  who  had  arrived 
at  Dawson  on  the  steamer  now  appeared.  Among  these 
were  William  Scouse  and  William  Sloan,  who  t«>ok  Xos. 
14  and  15.* 

**  We  all  went  over  to  the  creek,  and  l>egan  to  meas- 
ure and  record. 

♦  Some  one  staked  No.  1  ^  in  a  tirtilious  name,  to  try  to  hold 
fof  a  friend,  and  this  was  afterwards  juni|>cd  by  a  man  named 
Hollingshead. 


•^JUMPING*    CLAIMS 

^*Cobb  jumped  Phiscatcr's  claim,  as  he  would  not  take 
his  name  off  Bonanza.  The  name  of  the  creek  was  for- 
mally declared  to  be  *  Eldorado,'  as  agreed  upon  at  the 
meetinj;  the  night  before. 

"Cobb  lost  his  claim,  for  Captain  Constantinc,  the 
acting  gold  commissioner,  decided  that  at  the  time  he 
jum|KHl  there  was  plenty  of  as  good  ground  farther  up 
the  creek,  and  that  it  was  hoggish,  to  say  the  least,  to 
jump  grountl  where  a  discovery  of  gold  had  been  made. 
Had  all  the  Hve  claims  been  jumped,  instead  of  only 
one,  and  this  been  done  after  the  creek  had  been  staked, 
there  is  a  chance  whether  Anton,  Keller,  atid  company 
would  not  have  lost  their  claims,  to  which  they  had  not 
the  slightest  legal  right  until  they  had  taken  their  names 
off  Bonanza,  and  the  reason  that  barred  Cobb  would  not 
have  applieil  to  late-comers,  when  there  was  no  more 
ground  on  the  creek  above. 

**  The  s|>ot  where  the  gold  was  discovered  was,  like  the 
discovery  «m  Ik)nanza,  at  the  al^^c  of  the  creek,  on  the 
line  of  Xi>s.  2  and  3.  It  was  taken  from  a  cut  in  the 
bank,  and  was  practically  surface  gold  that  had  slid 
down  from  the  old  channel  «)n  the  hill-side.  It  was  noth- 
ing more  nor  less  than  *  bench*  gold,  the  existence  Of 
which  was  not  even  suspected  at  that  time.  From  a 
hole  eighteen  inches  deep  in  the  creek-bed,  and  under 
water,  as  high  as  $»  was  taken  out.  Bed-rock,  where  • 
the  real  richness  lay,  was  fifteen  or  sixteen  feet  below 
the  surface,  under  muck  and  gravel. 

**  The  next  morning,  at  6  .\.m.,  we  started  back,  and 
reached  the  In<lian  village  at  1  p.m.,  crossed  over  to 
our  cache,  and  had  dinner.  Then  we  started  for  Forty- 
Mile,  which  we  reached  at  10.30  that  night,  and  next 
day  we  recorded  again,  and  finally,  at  Constantine's 
office." 

3^7 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


WILLIAM     D.   JOHNS     ON     A 
•*  STAMPLDC  *• 


Mr.  Johns  little  realizing  the  value  of  his  claim,  sold  a 
half-interest  to  Knut  Langlow  for  S500,  one-halt  cash. and 
one-half  to  be  paid  '*on  bed-rock."     It  was  consi<lcred  he 

made  a  gcK^d  sale.  Some  while 
after  (information  having  pri- 
vately reached  parties  in  Forty- 
Mile)  he  sold  the  other  half  for 
$2500;  a  good  sale — also  a  good 
buy. 

Anton  went  to  Forty  -  Mile 
after  staking.  He  was  short  of 
grub,  and  wanted  to  work  his 
claim.  Ordinarily  any  man  could 
get  credit  in  the  lower  country, 
but  when  Anton  applied  to  the 
Alaska  Commercial  Company  the 
temporary  agent  would  not  let 
him  have  it  unless  it  was  guaran- 
teed. Clarence  Berry  came  forward,  guaranteed  An- 
ton's bill,  and  received  in  return  a  halt-interest  in  the 
claim.  Berry  further  traded  him  a  half-interest  in  an 
upper  Bonanza  claim,  then  supposed  to  l)e  of  no  value. 
Berry  was  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  '*  tin-horn  gambler," 
was  not  supp<ised  to  have  much  money,  and  he  was  never 
called  upon  to  make  the  guarantee  g(H)d.  It  was  whis- 
pered about  the  camp  that  the  agent  was  to  profit  by  the 
transaction.  However,  he  did  not.  Afterwards  Anton 
and  Berry  bought  controlling  interests  in  Xos.  4  and  5 
and  a  fraction  between  5  and  6.  Their  group  of  claims 
became  known  through  the  public  press  as  "the  Berry 
claims." 

"Old  man"  Whipple  sold  out  for  a  song  to  Skilf 
Mitchell,  Tom  O'Brien,  and  two  others  known  as  the 
**Big  Four."     Phiscater  sold  a  half-interest  in  Xo.  2  to 


A    GOOD    INVESTMENT 

a  man  named  Price  for  $800,  and  then  h4>iijj;ht  out  his 
interest  in  the  claim,  toj^ether  with  half  a  dump  they 
had  taken  out  durinjj:  the  winter,  for  $15,000,  paid  $2000 
down,  and  the  balance  <)Ut  of  the  dump  when  it  was 
sluiced,  with  a  bi^  margin  besides. 


OrRVlNC   IP  A  NKW  CI  AIM 


Such  was  the  beginning:  *^f  gold-mining  on  the  richest 
creek  in  the  Klondike. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Midwinter — Short  of  (irul) — Frontier  In>titution> — The  Oj>cra  ll«>ii>e — 
Saloons  and  Dance-lfall<t — A  Cilooniy  C'hri^tnixs — A  Winter's  Kill  i>f 
Fare— <k)UI  I>ust  as  Money — Kloiulike  Hotel"* — Sitknev> — A  Slran{;e 
Funeral— Northern  l.ight> — Curious  FlFects  of  Snow — Wonien  in  the 
V'akon — Yukon  Onler  of  I*ionecn» — Fir>t  News  from  Outside — Fir»l 
Letter^  from  Home — Tal  Galvin  — nard>hij)s  along  the  Trail 


s 


.^     T^       /^>i  IX  thousand  souls  wintered   in   Daw 

son,  of  whom  five -sixths  did  not 
know  whether  their  stock  of  pro- 
visions would  last  till  spriny^. 
The  meagre  stock  remaining  in  the 
stores  was  doled  out  a  few  p<^un(ls  at  a 
time,  after  an  interview  with  the  agent  in  person.  The 
North  American  Trailing  and  Transportation  Company 
had  about  seventy  duplicate  orders,  left  by  men  who  took 
outfits  from  the  other  store.  These  outfits,  comjirising 
each  a  sack  or  two  of  flour,  were  sold  at  the  regidar 
store  prices  ;  indeed,  although  the  miners  whose  outfits 
were  short,  and  others  who  for  any  cause  were  refused 
provisions,  vehemently  asserted  that  the  agent  was  spec- 
ulating in  the  necessaries  of  life,  no  poimd  of  g<K)ds 
was  s<jld  by  that  store  for  more  than  the  original  price. 
The  fact  of  two  such  extremely  differing  prices  existing 
at  the  same  moment  is  incouij)rehensible  until  the  con- 
ditions are  understoiKl. 

-     On  the  loth  of  January  the  speculative  price  of  pro- 

520 


NO    DANGER    OF    STARVATION 

visions  still  averaged  $i  a  pound ;  but  in  Dawson  flour 
had  fallen  to  $50  a  sack  for  first-grade,  and  $35  a  sack 
for  second-grade.  And  as  bearing  out  the  contention  of 
Captain  Healy,  that  the  miners  in  the  gulches  were,  on 
the  whole,  well  provided  for,  flour  on  the  same  date  was 
selling  in  open  market  on  Eldorado  for  $25  a  sack  ;  and 
butter,  which  had  risen  from  the  store-price  of  $1  a 
pound,  was  freighted  to  Dawson  from  Bonanza  Creek, 
one  whole  case  of  forty-eight  two-pound  tins  being  pur- 
chased by  the  **  Eldorado  "  restaurant  for  $480.  In  one 
miner's  cache  on  Eldorado  there  was  known  to  be  eighty- 
one  sacks  of  flour,  and  long  before  relief  came  from  out- 
side a  general  unloading  began  and  flour  dropped  to  the 
moderate  price  of  $100  for  six  sacks. 

Parties  went  out,  intending  to  bring  in  over  the  ice 
large  quantities  of  food,  believing  it  would  sell  at  $2  a 
pound  before  spring,  but  they  did  not  realize  that  the 
market  was  limited,  that  a  few  pers^ms  might  pay  fabu- 
lous prices,  but  the  great  majority  could  not  do  so  even  if 
they  starved.  One  man  in  Dawson  tried  to  corner  flour. 
At  considerable  e.xpense  he  secured  one  hundred  and 
eighty  sacks  from  down  river  and  other  sources.  He 
refused  $75  a  sack,  exi)ecting  to  realize  $100,  when  flour 
fell  in  price,  and  he  just  saved  himself  by  unloading. 

Captain  Healy,  whose  firm  and  certainly  arbitrary  atti- 
tude in  the  matter  of  food  earned  for  him  the  reputatit>n 
of  being  the  most  unjwpular  man  in  Dawson,  none  the 
less  was  an  unusual  and  interesting  personality.  For 
forty  years  he  was  a  trader  on  the  northwestern  fron- 
tier; a  member  of  the  Elk  or  Warrior  band  of  the  Klack- 
feet;  scout  in  the  cani[)aign  against  Chief  Joseph;  sheriff 
at  Fort  Benton,  on  the  Missouri  River;  next,  trader  at 
Dyea,  and  now  in  the  Yukon  ;  in  person,  rather  small, 
with  sallow  complexion,  gray  hair,  mustache,  and  goatee, 

33* 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

and  a  cold,  unflinching^  blue  eye — the  type  of  man  in 
whose  exploits  the  history  of  the  West  alK)und.s,  to  whom 
personal  fear  is  unknown,  accustomed  to  deal  single- 
handed  with  any  emergency;  but  he  has  confessed  that 
from  the  start  the  problem  of  overcoming  the  natural 
obstacles  and  of  meeting:  the  yjrowin^  demands  of  the 
Yukon  had  been  one  of  the  hardest  purely  business 
"propositions"  he  had  ever  had  to  face. 

With  the  fear  of  famine  over  us,  and  some  allowing 
themselves  but  one  meal  a  day,  or  indulj^ing  even  in 
bacon  only  twice  a  week,  there  were  few  with  the  equa- 
nimity of  our  genial  friend  Captain  Anderson,  Arizona 
frontiersman,  who  wrote  to  the  anxious  ones  at  home 
that  he  didn't  know  whether  there  was  going  to  be 
starvation  or  not,  but,  anyhow,  he  was  eating  the  best 
first  and  saving  the  |)oorest  till  last.  Some  verses  writ- 
ten at  the  time  by  my  versatile  neighbor,  Russell  Bates, 
draw  no  imaginary  picture  : 

"the    lone    FLAI'JACK 

"One  cold  Alaska's  winter  day 
I  sat  within  my  lonely  shack : 
Without,  old  liorcas  held  full  sway. 
While  cold  came  in  throuj;h  every  crack. 
Upon  the  stove  was  scarce  a  snack — 
My  daily  meal,  a  lone  flapjack. 

-Upon  the  floor  my  flour  lay — 

In  all  'twas  less  than  half  a  sack. 
My  beans  and  bacon  on  that  day 

Would  hanlly  constitute  a  (Mck. 
Could  I  live  on  till  first  of  May 
Upon  one  lone  flapjack  a  day.^ 

"While  ponderin)^  thus,  and  looking  back — 
For  I  never  in  my  life  did  lack 

313 


CHRISTMAS    DINNER 

Three  sum  pi  nous,  hearty  meals  a  day 
Jmlj;e  Mastasoii,  to  my  dismav. 

Came  in  and  said.  •  My  dear  ol«l  Mac. 

Can  you  give  me  a  hot  flapjack?* 


•* 


My  friend  has  gone,  the  days  seem  black. 

I  miss  his  hearty,  genial  way. 
His  friends  at  home  will  test  his  sack 

'Mid  popping  corks,  as  good  friends  may; 
But  should  the  spring  convey  him  back. 
He's  welcome  to  my  lone  flapjack!" 

It  was  refK>rted  that  a  turkey  reached  Dawson  at 
Christmas.  That  was  a  mistake.  On  April  loth,  how- 
ever,  a  turlrt»y,  ready  cooked  and  dressed,  was  brought 
by  a  Dutchman  over  the  ice  from  Skagway  and  was  ex- 
hibited for  several  days  to  the  wistful  gaze  of  the  public 
in  the  **  Pioneer"  saloon,  where  it  was  finally  raffled  off. 
netting  the  owner  $1 74 ;  but  the  owner  said  he  would  not  ' 
go  through  the  hardships.of  the  trip  in  for  the  same  price 
again. 

The  day  before  Christmas  my  cabin  partner  announced 
that  he  had  invited  some  friends  to  dinner.  Heavens ! 
I  looked  under  the  bunk  where  our  st(K'k  of  grub  was 
safely  stored.  There  was  still  plenty  of  bacon,  but  bacon 
three  times  a  day  loses  its  zest  in  course  of  time.  There 
was  plenty  of  flour,  but  neither  of  us  could  bake  bread. 
We  had  been  living  on  soup- vegetables  and  beans  for 
several  days,  in  consequence  of  forgetting  to  sweeten 
eighteen  loaves  of  sour- dough  bread  with  soda,  which 
loaves  not  even  passing  dogs  would  eat.  The  oulhw^k, 
therefore,  was  a  dinner  of  soup,  flapjacks,  and  beans— not 
even  the  usual  "three  Bs,"  bread,  beans,  and  bacon,  of 
Alaska  fare.  Our  last  tin  of  condensed  milk  was  gone, 
and  there  was  none  to  be  had  for  love  or  money.    Our 

335 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

remaininpj  butter — part  of  a  firkiii  N>u;^ht  at  Dyea — ue 
now  called  either  "hiitter"  or  "cheese";  it  might  pass 
for  either.  It  lookeil  as  if  it  woultl  have  to  be  flapjack 
and  beans  for  dinner.  Pelletier,  with  a  wise  look  on  his 
face,  said,  **  Leave  it  to  nie  I"  That  night  he  came  back 
with  some  bundles,  which  he  threw  di>wn  on  the  table, 
and  proudly  unwra{)ped  a  can  of  ct>ndensed  cream,  two 
cans  of  French  pease,  and — a  can  of  turkty  !  A  man  i)f 
marvellous  resources  was  he,  but  even  yet  I  tlo  n<»t  un- 
derstand how  he  managed  to  get  the  turkey. 

By  means  of  the  turkey  (tht>ugh  the  cranberry  sauce 
was  lacking),  ami  under  the  direction  of  old  Joe  Liberty. 
an  old  Juneau  pioneer  who  was  living  with  us,  we  made  out 
well.  One  of  our  guests  was  alx)ut  to  start  for  the  coast, 
and  to  him  it  was  a  farewell  dinner  as  well — a  better  one 
than  many  a  po<ir  fellow  was  having  on  the  trail  that  day. 

I  heard  a  man  say  Dawson  was  the  first  place  he  was 
ever  in  where  it  was  no  disgrace  to  be  "dead  broke." 
Gold-dust  wa.s,  of  ci>urse,  the  medium  <»f  exchange.  Hut 
the  profits  of  mine-owners  and  the  wages  i>f  workmen, 
amounting  to  millions,  were  frozen  fast  in  the  dumi>s  i)f 
Eldorado  and  Bonanza,  and  there  was  but  little  money 
to  spend.  A  man  with  a  good  claim  could  get  a  certain 
amount  of  credit,  but  the  bulk  of  the  business  was  trans- 
acted in  cash.  Money  commanded  5  to  10  per  cent,  a 
month.  The  commercial  companies  and  the  saloons 
were  the  custodians  of  dust.  A  miner  would  hand  his 
sack  containing  perhaps  thousands  of  dt>llars  to  a  sal<Hin- 
keeper,  who  put  it  in  an  unh^ked  drawer,  where  it  was 
as  safe  as  in  a  bank  outride. 

In  a  new  mining- camp  the  saloon  is  the  centre  of 
social  life.  At  Dawson,  shut  out  from  the  world,  under 
conditions  that  tried  the  very  souls  of  men,  it  was  less 
wonder  that  men  were  drawn   together  into   the  only 

3J6 


SALOONS 

public  places  where  a  friendly  fire  burned  by  day  and 
night,  and  where,  in  the  dim  li^ht  of  a  kerosene  lamj*, 
they  might  see  one  another's  faces.  The  Yukon  saloon 
was  a  peculiar  institution  (I  feel  that  I  am  describing 
s<^mething  that  passed  away  when  tlie  horde  of  new- 
comers came  later).     Most  of  the  proprietors  were  old- 


timers  who  had  been  miners,  men  of  honor  and  char- 
acter, res|)ected  in  a  community  where  a  man  was  valued, 
not  according  to  his  pretensions  or  position  in  "sf)ciety," 
but  in  proportion  to  his  manliness  and  intrinsic  worth. 
Class  lines  are  not  drawn  sharply  in  a  mining-camp,  and 
the  freedom  from  the  restraint  of  society  and  home 
makes  temptation  greater  than  many  can  withstand. 
V  ^7 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPKDK 

Taken  as  a  whole,  the  I'xpcrieiuc  <»f  a  year  In  tlu*  Klon- 
dike is  such  as  to  search  out  the  flaw  in  tlie  weak  but 
to  strengthen  the  character  of  the  strong. 

Of  the  half-ilozen  or  more  places  of  amusement  and 
recreation,  the  most  pretentious  was  the  **  ( )pera-IIouse," 
a  large  log  building,  with  a  bar  and  various  gambling 
lay-outs  in  the  front,  and  a  theatre  in  the  rear,  with  a 
stage,  boxes  at  each  side,  and  iK-nches  on  the  tloor  for 
the  audience.  It  gave  vaudeville  performances,  lasting 
several  hours  each  evening,  the  performers  being  mostly 
a  troupe  who  stampeded  with  the  rest  from  Circle  City. 
The  price  of  admission,  strange  to  s^iy,  was  at  the  low 
price  of  **four  bits."  or  half  a  dollar,  admission  being  se- 
cured, according  to  the  usual  Yukon  custimi,  by  first  pur- 
chasing for  that  sum  a  drink  or  a  cigar  at  the  bar.  At 
the  end  of  the  performance  the  benches  were  taken  up, 
and  dancing  began  and  continueii  ail  night.  The  re- 
ceipts of  the  place  were  enormous,  footing  upwards  of 
$22,ooo  a  month.  Early  on  Thanksgiving  morning, 
after  an  uprtxirious  masquerade  ball,  the  dry  building 
caught  fire,  and  ne.xt  morning  saw  only  the  blackened 
ruins  of  Daws<m*s  first  theatre.  After  the  burning  c»f 
•  the  **Opera-House,'Vthe  talent  t*K)k  to  various  <Kxupa- 
tions,  most  of  the  women  securing  work  at  the  one  re- 
maining dance-hall,  the  *'  M.  &:  M..*'  generally  known  as 
**  Pete's  Place,"  within  whose  hospitable  walls  on  Ci>ld 
nights  it  cost  the  "busted  "  chuhahko  nothing  to  warm 
himself  at  the  stove,  to  listen  to  the  music,  to  look  on 
at  the  scene  of  gayety,  and  wet  his  dry  throat  at  the  wa- 
ter-barrel. A  water-barrel  in  a  sal^Hin,  think  of  it! 
Yes,  in  the  old-time  Yukon  saloon  it  st<KKl  in  a  corner, 
or  at  the  end  of  the  bar,  and  was  kept  tilled  with  pure 
cold  water  at  a  cost  of  $io  a  barrel,  while  a  tin  dipper 
hung  on  a  nail  for  the  use  of  all. 

11?^ 


(4 


PETES    PLACE" 


**  Pete's"  was  a  two-story  Iojtt  buildinjj,  the  upper 
story  1)ein^  the  living-rooms  of  tlie  proprietor.  One 
entered  from  the  street,  in  a  whisk  of  steam  that  coated 
the  door-jamb  with  snowy  frost,  into  a  low-ceiled  room 
some  thirty  by  forty  feet  in  dimensiv)ns.  The  bar,  a  pine 
counter  stained  red,  with  a  large  mirror  and  b<Utles 
and  glasses  behind,  was  on  the  left  hand.  A  lunch- 
counter  sttH)d  on  the  right,  while  in  the  rear,  and  fenced 
off  by  a  low  wooden  railijig,  but  leaving  a  way  clear  to  the 
bar,  was  the  space  reserved  for  dancing.  Here,  in  the 
glow  of  three  or  four  dim,sm«»ky  kerosene  lami)s,  around 
a  great  sheet-iron  "ram-down"  stove,  kept  always  red- 
hot,  would  always  l>e  f«>und  a  motley  crowd  —  miners, 
government  otttcials,  mounted  j>olicemen  in  uniform, 
gamblers,  both  amateur  and  prt)fessional,  in  "citiHed" 
clothes  and  lR>iled  shirts,  old-timers  and  new-comers, 
claim-brokers  and  men  with  claims  to  sell,  busted  men 
and  millionaires — they  elbowed  each  other,  talking  and 
laughing,  or  silently  looking  on,  all  in  friendly  good- 
nature. 

Pete  himself,  one  of  the  few  salo<in -keepers  who  had 
not  been  miners  in  the  "lower  country,"  served  the 
drinks  behind  the  bar  in  shirt-sleeves,  with  his  round 
head  and  bull-dog  expression,  hair  carefully  oiled  and 
parted,  and  dark,  curled  mustache,  smiling,  courteous, 
and  ignorant— a  typical  "outside"  bartender. 

The  orchestra  consistetl  of  a  piano,  violin,  and  flute,  and 
occupied  chairs  on  a  raisctl  platfi>rm  in  one  corner  of  the 
dance-floor.  The  ladies  were  never  backward  in  imj^or- 
tuning  partners  for  the  dance;  but  any  reluctance  up<^n 
the  part  of  would-be  dancers  was  overcome  by  a  young 
man  in  shirtsleeves,  who  in  a  loud,  penetrating  voice 
would  begin  to  exhort : 

**Come  on,  boys — you  can  all  waltz — let's  have  a  nice, 

339 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

long,  juicy  waltz;"  and  thon,  when  three  or  four  couples 
had  taken  the  thx»r,  "Fire  away!"  he  would  lall  to  the 
musicians,  and  then  the  fun  be^an.  Wiien  the  dancers 
had  circled  around  the  r«M)ni  five  or  six  times  the  nmsic 
would  stop  with  a  jerk,  anil  the  couples,  with  a  precision 
derived  from  long  practice,  would  swing  towards  the 
bar,  and  push  their  way  through  the  surging  mass  of 
interested  l«M>kers-on,  or  "  rublK'r- necks,**  in  fur-caps, 
Mackinaws,  and  parhis,  and  line  up  in  front  of  the  bar. 

"What  *ll  vou  have,  gents — a  little  whiskev?" 

Sacks  were  tossed  out  on  the  bar,  I*ete  pushed  in  front 
of  each  **gent'*  a  small  "blower,"  and  the  "gent"  |M>ured 
in  some  gold-dust,  which  I*ete  took  to  a  large  goUl-scale 
at  the  end  of  the  bar,  weighed  out  $i,  and  returned  the 
balance  to  the  sack.  The  lavly  received  as  her  c«»mmis- 
sion  on  the  dance  a  round,  white  ivory  chip,  g«M>d  for  25 
cents. 

Hardly  had  the  dancers  stop|>etl  beft>re  the  caller-off, 
"Eddy,"  upon  whose  skill  in  keeping  the  dances  going 
depended  the  profits  of  the  house,  Ix'gan  again  in  his 
loud  voice,  coa.xing,  imploring  —  "Come  on,  lx>ys,"  or, 
"Grab  a  lady,  boys,  *n*  have  a  nice  ipiadrille."  And  so 
it  went  on  all  night,  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dances 
being  not  unusual  befi>re  daylight  appeared  through 
the  frosted  panes.  Often  the  same  men  danced  and 
caroused  night  after  night,  until  their  "|x»kes,"  or  goUl- 
sacks,  grew  lean,  and  then  they  disap|)eared  up  the  gulch 
again. 

Whenever  a  man  start eil  in  to  dance  more  than  one 
dance  he  usually  paid  for  several  in  advance,  receiving 
what  are  called  "allemande  left "  chips.  There  was  a  dif- 
ference of  opinion,  which  I  believe  has  never  lK*en  set- 
tled, as  to  when  a  cIu\hahko  is  entitled  to  call  himself 
an  "old-timer."     S)me  say  after  his  first  winter  in  the 


4« 


HOOTCH" 


Yukon ;  others  contend  not  until  after  he  has  b<3UKht 
his  first  "allemantle  left"  chip. 

Some  of  the  women  were  employed  at  a  salary  of  $125 
a  week  and  commissions  on  extras  such  as  champajjjne, 
which  cost  those  who  cared  to  induljje  in  that  luxury 
§40  a  quart.  The  majority  of  women  received  only  the 
25  cents*  commission,  but  sometimes,  if  industrious  or 
gooiMookinjjj,  they  made  $25  or  even  more  a  nijjht. 

The  whiskey  varied  j^reatly  in  quality,  some  being 
very  bad,  while  the  best,  by  the  time  it  reached  the  con- 
sumer, was  apt  to  l)e  diluted  to  the  last  decree. 

Whenever  whiskey  runs  short  the  Vukoner  falls  back 
uix>n  a  villanous  dectK^tion  made  o(  sour  dou«;h,  or  doujj^h 
and  brown  sugar,  or  sugar  alone,  and  known  as  *'  hootch- 
inoi>,"  or  ** hootch."  The  still  is  made  of  coal-oil  cans. 
the  worm  of  pieces  of  India-rublKT  lKK>t-tops  cemented 
together.  This  crude  still  is  heated  over  an  ordinary 
Yukon  stove.  The  liquor  obtained  is  clear  white,  and 
is  flavored  with  l)lueberries  or  dried  |H»aches,  to  suit  the 
taste.  It  must  be  very  bad,  for  its  manufacture  is  for- 
bidden by  law;  they  say  it  will  drive  a  man  crazy;  but 
there  were  persons  willing  to  take  their  oath  that  the 
regular  whiskey  sold  over  some  of  the  bars  was  worse 
than  "hootch."  A  home-brewed  beer,  or  ale,  was  also 
served,  a  whiskey  glassful  costing  50  cents.  Cigars  were 
mostly  a  {>*H>r  five-cent  grade. 

An  example  of  the  better  class  of  Dawson  sakK>n  was 
the  **  Pioneer,"  or  **  Mo<»sehorn,**  a  favorite  resort  of  old- 
timers.  The  proprietors,  Nfessrs.  Densmore,  SjK'ncer 
&  McPhee,  were  types  of  the  early  Yukon  pioneer. 
Frank  Densmore,  in  fact,  was  ann>ng  the  first  who 
crossed  the  pass,  an<l  he  nnked  for  gt)ld  on  the  bars  of 
the  upper  Yukon  a  dozen  years  l>efore  the  Klondike  was 
known.     I  recall  the  "  Pioneer  "  as  a  large,  comfortable 

34* 


THE    KLOXDIKl-:   STAMIMCDE 

room,  with  the  usual  har  on  one  side,  having  a  massive 
mirror  behind, ami  several  larj^e  moose  andearil>ou  antlers 
on  the  walls,  a  numl>er  of  unpainlevl  tables  and  benches 
and  chairs,  the  latter  always  tilled  with  men  talki?i^  over 
their  pif^es,  readinjj  much-worn  newspapers  (six  months 
out  of  date),  a  few  enijajjetl  in  j;james  of  poker,  atid  nine- 
tenths  "dead  broke,"  but  as  welcome,  apparently,  as  the 
most  reckless  rounder  who  spilled  his  dust  over  the  bar. 
It  struck  the  outsider  with  wonder,  the  seeming:  indif- 
ference  of  the  proprietors  whether  one  patronized  the 
bar  or  not,  for  what  other  interpretation  can  one  place 
on  a  water-barrel  at  the  end  of  the  bar?  Then,  t(M>, 
the  **  busted"  man  of  to-day  mij;ht  l)e  the  "  milli«»naire  " 
of  to-morrow;  but  the  reason  lay  deefXT  than  that. 
There  were  men  destined  not  to  have  fortunes.  Very 
late  at  nijjht,  when  Dawson  had  turned  in  for  a  snatch 
p(  sleep,  one  mijjht  see  them  lyinj^  on  benches  and  ta- 
bles, homeless.  strande<l  men,  half -sick  and  dependent 
from  day  to  day  on  the  charity  of  strangers,  antl  who, 
but  for  this  welcome  bench  or  table,  had  no  place  to 
lay  their  heads.  Somethinij  of  the  jjjenerous  spirit  of 
the  old  Yukon  life  made  these  men  welcome. 

Gamblinjj  is  a  miner's  proper  amusement,  provided  he 
also  pays  his  bills.  Every  sal<H)n  had  its  i»amblinij  lay- 
outs. **  Black  -  jack,"  poker,  roulette,  and  craps  were 
played  assiduously,  some  havinij  a  preference  for  one, 
some  for  another,  but  the  favorite  jjame  was  faro.  A 
crowd  mijjht  always  l)e  found  around  the  faro-table,  either 
keepinjj  track  of  "cases,"  or  simply  lookinjj  on  at  the 
play.  Twenty-five  cents  was  the  lowest  chip,  the  white, 
the  reds  and  blues  beinij  resiR-ciively  $i  and  $5.  The 
** dealer,"  sittinj^j  lK*hin<l  the  table  and  turninsj:  the  cards 
with  mechanical  regularity,  and  the  "lotikout,"  who  .s;iw 
that  "no  bets  were  overlooked,"  were  paid  a  salary  of 

Mi 


•  •      ■ 


••hittix;  the  bi.ower"  (iayjng  a  bill  in  r.oLi>-DrsT) 


••  .'      «    • 


GAMBLING 

§15  to  §20  a  day,  and  each  faro-tabic  had  to  win  from 
$50  to  $So  every  day  to  make  a  profit  for  the  house, 
from  which  a  moral  may  l>e  deduced  as  to  the  wicked- 
ness of  playing  fari> — on  the  wronj;^  sitle  of  the  table. 
At  times  the  play  was  very  large  and  correspondingly 
exciting.  A  young  l>oy  who  had  sold  a  rich  claim 
** dropped"  $i*S,ooo  in  the  course  of  thirty -^ix  hours' 
play.  Hundreds  of  dollars  were  made  or  lost  on  the 
turn  of  a  card.  One  day  a  "dog-puncher,"  J««e  Hrahd, 
walke<i  in  and  threw  down  his  sack  on  the  "high  card/* 
saying,  **  That's  gixn!  for  a  himdred."  He  won,  and 
was  given  an  order  on  the  weigher  f»>r  ;*»ioo.  lIoMing 
up  the  slip,  he  asketl,  "  Is  this  good  fi»r  the  drinks  ?'* 
**It  is,"  was  the  reply,  and  he  ordered  up  glasses  to  the 
number  of  two  hundred,  hail  them  Hlled  with  whi>key, 
and  then  invited  every  «>ne  up  to  drink.  A  number  in  the 
saliMm  hung  back,  whom  he  vainly  sought  t^»  make  drink. 
He  passed  off  the  refusal  with  a  laugh,  saying  that  it  must 
be  pretty  mean  whiskey  when  no  t>ne  would  drink  it. 
The  balance  was  placeil  to  his  credit  for  another  time. 

I  saw  another  man,  a  well-known  character,  at  a 
**black-jack  "  table  in  a  few  minutes  coolly  l«»sc  an  even 
$1000,  and  then  just  to  show  he  didn't  mint!,  he  "ordered 
up"  the  whole  house,  treating  every  one  in  the  saUK>n,  at 
half  a  dollar  a  head,  to  whiskey  and  cigars. 

Jake,  a  little  Jew  who  ran  a  lunch-counter  at  **  Pete's," 
was  particularly  fond  of  dancing  and  "crai>s,"  a  game  he 
doubtless  learned  when  a  messenger  boy  in  Philadelphia. 
After  a  pri>sperous  day's  business  Jake  wi»uld  "stake" 
a  dollar,  and  if  he  won  a  sutficient  sum  he  would  sj>end 
the  night  dancing.  He  was  too  g«v><l  a  business  man  to 
spend  the  profits  o(  business  dancing,  and  s<*  we  always 
knew  when  we  saw  Jake  on  the  floor  that  he  had  been 
lucky  that  day  at  craps. 

345 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Naturally  a  restaiiratU  was  a  |>r<)fital)!L'  uiulcriakiny: 
to  a  |)crson  with  a  wcll-Hllcd  cae  he.  Tlic  articles  on  the 
bill  of  fare  were  liinitecl  in  minilKT,  uncertain  in  (|uan- 
tity,  but  unfailingly  hi^h  in  price.  An  eating -place, 
with  the  hij^jh-souiulinj;^  name  of  "The  I-IMorado. "  sImikI 
in  a  space  hardly  more  than  ten  feet  wide,  hetweeti  two 
larger  buildings,  and  consisted  of  a  room  front  and  back, 
the  front  room  being  supplied  with  three  unpainted 
spruce  tables  and  rough  Ijoard  sttK)ls,  and  a  narrow 
counter  between  the  diM>r  ami  window,  on  which  stood 
the  gold-scales.  In  the  rear  was  the  kitchen.  The  rough 
log  walls  of  this  **Delnn>nico's'*of  Dawson  were  plastered 
with  signs,  tt  h  Bowery,  reading:  "Meal.  $,?  50";  "  l*or- 
terhouse  Steak,  $.S**;  "Sirloin  Steak,  $5."  The  meal  con- 
sisted of  a  bit  of  m<K)se  meat,  or  l)eef,  l)eans,  a  small  dish 
of  stewed  apples  or  |>eaches,  one  "helping"  of  bread  and 
butter,  and  one  cup  of  tea  or  coffee.  In  a  tent  on  the 
water-front  a  man  and  his  wife  were  said  to  have  accu- 
mulated $30,000  as  the  winter's  proHts,  selling  coffee 
and  pies,  etc.  In  the  "Dominion"  sal<M)n  was  a  lunch- 
counter  kept  by  a  free-thinking  Jew,  who  iliscussed  phi- 
losophy with  his  customers  as  he  served  out  plates  of 
soup  at  $1  each.  At  Jake's  there  hung  all  winter  the 
following  bill  of  fare,  drawn  in  large  black  letters  on  a 
sheet  of  Bristol-board : 

BILL   OF    FARE.  ' 

Sandwiches $  .75  each. 

Dough-nuts 75  P*^""  order. 

Pies .75    "    cut. 

Turnovers 75    "    order. 

Ginger  Citke 75     "    cut. 

Coffee  cake 1 .00    " 

Caviare  sandwiches 1.00  each. 

Sardine  **  1.00     ** 

>*6 


AX    EXPENSIVE    MUM' 

Stewed  fruits $  oO  per  dish. 

Canned  fruits i.oo  ** 

Sardines 1.25  "  order. 

Cold  meals 1.50  " 

Raw  Hamburg*  steak    .......     2.00  "      " 

Chocolate  or  cocoa 75  "  ^^^P* 

Tea  or  coffee  . .      .50  "     " 

The  card  and  the  printing  topjether  cost  $15,  probaljly 
one  of  the  most  exj>cnsivc  iiititit  cards  in  the  world. 
Jake's  visible  stock  seldom  consisted,  at  any  one  time,  of 
more  than  a  bottle  of  Worcestershire  sauce,  a  pie,  a  few 
tins  of  sardines,  some  tins  of  milk,  a  pan  of  beans,  and  a 
K>af  of  bread,  which  were  temptinj;ly  displayed  on  three 
rude  shelves  ajjainst  the  back  wall.  In  A[>ril, some  oysters 
came  in  by  d<^g-team.  Jake  paid  $iS  and  $20  f(»r  several 
tins  holding  two  dozen  oysters — less  than  a  pint.  There- 
after an  oyster-stew  could  be  had  for  the  modest  sum  of 
$15.  Another  person  gave  $25  each  for  two  of  the  same 
tins.  A  shrewd  Yankee,  with  a  winning  smile,  started  a 
baker>*  in  the  Ladue  cabin  in  the  middle  of  the  street 
and  made  bread  and  pies,  selling  them  for  §1  each. 
Later  he  branched  out  into  a  restaurant,  and  took  out  a 
fortune. 

G<>ld-dust  is  not  an  economical  or  convenient  currency. 
Out  of  every  $50  exjK-nded  in  making  small  purchases, 
there  would  be  a  regular  loss  of  $4  to  $6,  due  partly  to 
the  custom  of  the  weigher  taking  the  "turn"  of  the 
scale,  partly  to  carelessness,  and  partly  to  actual  theft. 
In  changing  dollars  and  cents  into  ounces  and  penny- 
weights, it  is  easy  to  purposely  miscalculate  or  substi- 
tute larger  weights.  And  then  the  small  traders  had 
only  the  pocket  pr«>s|>e*tor*s  scales,  which  often  were 
considerably  out  of  balance.  The  pr(»prietor  of  one 
restaurant  told  me  that  although  he  made  it  a  rule  not 

347 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

to  take  the  *' turn  "of  the  scale,  he  invariably  found  him- 
self several  dollars  ahead  at  the  end  of  the  day. 

When  the  miner  cam**  to  town  on  business,  or  on  pleas- 
ure bent,  unless  he  had  a  cabin,  or  friends  to  take  him  in, 
he  was  obliged  to  choose  between  staying  up  all  night  in 
the  saloons  or  going  to  one  of  the  half-dozen  establish- 
ments by  courtesy  tlesignateti  **  hotels."  Not  even  a 
person  whose  sensibilities  had  been  blunted  by  a  year  in 


j^*  fH 


r 


r 


r^l* 


\\% 


M^j 


/ 


'  »^- 


'HW^ -':-'■    •-.'■"'^  ii'ii    in  iiiiim  n.)t)i|tn» 


Ifirmi  n  iwa»fc»ii 


i 


"Jake's."  wiikrc  an  ov^rrtR-sTrw  cost  I15 


the  Yukon  could  abide  in  one  even  {k>x  one  nighi  in  com- 
fort or  safety.  The  **hoicr'  was  a  two-story  building. 
On  the  first  rtm^r  was  the  bar,  which  served  for  the 
clerk's  desk  as  well,  the  rear  of  the  place  being  the 
family  quarters  of  the  proprietor.  U|)on  payment  of  $>. 
always  demanded  in  advance,  the  clerk,  bar-tender,  or 
proprietor — who  was  often  one  and  the  same  {>erson — 
would  lead  the  way  with  a  candle  up  a  rickety  stairs 
to  an  upper  room,  which  commonly  extended  the  whole 

i4« 


A    FIRST-CLASS    HOT  K  L 

length  of  the  huililing,  with  only  the  rafters  overliead. 
Sometimes  this  room  was  ilivideil  into  small  rooms  or 
pens  by  partitions  as  hi.v^h  as  one's  hea<l,  with  jnst  space 
for  a  single  cot ;  or  else  the  interior  was  filhxl  with  tiers 
of  double -decked  bunks  of  rude  scantling;,  accommo- 
dating twenty  or  thirty  sleepers.  The  l)ed(ling  in  each 
bunk  consisted  of  rough  blankets  and  a  very  small  pil- 
low. There  was  a  nafl  in  the  wall  to  hang  one's  coat 
upon  (for  that  was  all  a  person  was  ex|K'cted  to  take 
off,  except  his  shoes  or  moccasins),  and  the  landlord  left 
a  bit  of  candle  to  light  the  guest  to  bed.  The  only  ven- 
tilation to  this  upper  room  was  through  generous  cracks 
in  the  floor  and  a  small  window  at  each  end,  which  in 
cold  weather  were  kept  scrupulously  shut.  When  heated 
to  a  torrid  pitch  by  a  large  stove  on  the  lower  floor,  with 
every  bunk  full  of  unwashed  men  who  have  taken  ofl* 
their  rubber  boots  or  ttiitliitks^  the  air  of  this  veritable 
**bull-pen"  before  morning  was  such  that  no  one  could 
be  induced  to  rejx'at  the  experience  except  when  con- 
fronted with  the  |K)sitive  alternative  of  lying  out  of  diM)rs 
without  protection  from  the  cold.  Kven  worse  than  the 
thick,  nauseating  atmosphere  were  the  vermin  with 
which  the  blankets  were  alive,  as  there  was  no  |x»ssible 
means  in  winter  of  getting  rid  of  them  short  of  destruc- 
tion of  the  iKilding.  They  are  already  the  bane  of  thie  dig- 
gings, hardly  one  of  the  cabins  on  the  older  creeks  l>eing 
free  from  the  unwelcome  occupants.  Clothes- washing 
was  an  expensive  item,  uidess  one  did  it  himself.  No  arti- 
cle was  less  than  50  cents,  and  it  was  by  no  means  a  large 
wash  that  came  to  $10.  Heavy  blankets  could  not  be 
washed  at  all.  Persons  regarded  themselves  as  par- 
ticularly cleanly  if  they  changed  underwear  every  two 
weeks. 

The  hard  life  led  by  the  miner  in  winter  often  brings 


THK    KLONDIKK    STAMPEDK 

on  a  disease  known  as  "sinirvy."  It  is  not  the  same  as 
ship  scurvy,  anil  the  symptoms  vary  in  tlirterent  |KTsons, 
the  more  common  beinjj  a  harcleninj:^  of  the  tentU^ns,  es- 
pecially those  under  the  knee,  a  darkening  of  the  skin, 
and  an  apparent  lifelessness  <>f  the  tissue,  so  that  when 
a  finger  is  pressed  against  the  skin  a  dent  remains  for 
some  time  afterwards.  It  is  rarely  fatal,  though  it  may 
incapacitate  the  victim  for  work  for  a  whole  season. 
It  yields  readily  to  a  treatment  of  spruce-leaf  tea,  taken 
internally.  Varitms  sj>eci fie  causes  are  given,  such  as 
lack  of  fresh  meat  and  vegetables,  improperly  ctx)ked 
food,  exposure  and  vitiated  air,  but  physicians  say  that 
the  real  cause  is  yet  unknown. 

Physicians  did  uncommonly  well.  The  charge  for  a 
visit  in  town  was  never  less  than  $5,  while  a  visit  to  the 
mines  wxs  sometimes  as  high  as  $500,  the  charge  l>eing 
regulated  according  to  the  '*  victim's"  ability  to  pay  ;  and 
the  price  of  drugs  was  proportionately  high.  One  young 
doctor  was  said  to  have  earned  $1200  to  $i5cxd  a  month, 
while  another  who  investetl  his  earnings  judiciously  in 
mines  was  reputed  to  have  made  $200,000.  The  hospital, 
although  a  sectarian  institution,  was  maintained  by  local 
subscriptions.  Three  ounces  of  gold-dust  ($51)  entitled 
a  person  to  a  ticket  for  treatment  during  one  year, 
and  a  certain  number  of  weeks  in  the  hospital,  with 
board  and  nursing  free.  To  non-subscribers  the  charge 
was  $5  a  day,  and  $5  e.xtra  for  the  doctor's  usually  daily 
visit.  From  its  establishment  in  the  fall  of  1S97  up  to 
April  ist,  189S,  the  number  of  deaths  was  twenty-four, 
of  which  seven  or  eight  were  from  typhoid  fever.  The 
hospital  was  a  godsend,  and  many  a  man  came  out  from 
under  the  tender  care  of  the  venerable  Father  Judge  and 
the  little  band  of  Sisters  with  a  broader  view  of  religious 
work  and  a  better  personal  understanding  of  what   it 

350 


A    DAWSON    FrXKRAL 

meant  to  devote  one's  life  to  tloinjj  j^jmmI  for  his  fcllnw- 
men. 

Now  and  then  we  witnessed  the  sad  sij;ht  of  a  funer- 
al—  some  |K)or  fellow  borne  to  his  last  rest inj;:  place 
far  from  his  own  people,  hut  never  without  friends.  In 
order  to  make  a  ^rave,  it  was  necessiiry  to  burn  the 
frosty  ground  exactly  as  if  for  minifijj.  A  sijjht  wit- 
nessed perhaps  no  place  else  in  the  world  was  a  hearse 


A   R'XKtAL   PROCKSSIoN    IX    DAWSOM 


drawn  by  dojjs.  The  rude  coffin  of  spruce  was  placed  on 
a  Yukon  sled,  to  which  was  hitched  a  team  of  four  jjray 
^^alamut  dogs.  The  minister  and  impnjvised  hearse 
went  ahead,  followed  by  a  prt>cession  of  friends,  to  a 
spot  on  the  hill-side  overlooking^  the  Yukon,  where  the 
funeral  service  was  read,  and  then  the  coffin  lowered 
into  its  resting-place,  where  the  body  will  lie  unchanged 
until  the  earth  itself  changes. 

The  aurora  borealis,  or  northern  lights,  of  which  we 
expected  to  see  so  much,  failed  to  show  the  brilliant  con- 

35 » 


THE    KLONDIKE   STAMPEDE 

ventional  arc  of  Iii^ht  represented  in  pictures  of  the 
Arctic  rejjions.  A  clear  yellow  ^\ii\v  on  the  huri/.«>n,  like 
that  from  the  rising  of  the  sun,  lay  in  the  north,  and  from 
this  at  times  streams  of  li^ht  shot  upward,  often  to  the 
zenith,  and  took  the  form  of  wavinjr  bands  t>r  curtains 
of  light,  pink  and  green,  swiftly,  silently  moving  and 
shifting.  Sometimes  the  light  seemed  very  near,  and 
then  it  seemed  that  we  could  hear  a  rustling,  but 
whether  it  was  the  rustling  of  the  light  or  the  rusliing 
of  the  river  l)eneath  the  ice  we  could  never  tell,  it  was 
so  subtle  and  illusive;  and  again  it  seemeil  as  if  its  ravs 
caught  the  pale-green  light  of  the  moon,  which  sh<»ne 
as  bright  as  day  in  the  cloudless  sky. 

The  dry.  crisp  add  was  no  greater  than  one  could 
stand,  but  from  the  first  of  December  until  the  middle 
of  January  the  cold  and  darkness  combined  to  weigh 
upon  hotly  and  mind.  Even  with  plenty  of  work  to 
do  the  short,  dull  days  and  interminable  nights  were 
gloomy  and  dispiriting.  After  the  miildle  of  January 
the  days  grew  rapidly  longer,  for  the  coming  and  going 
of  the  seasons  are  much  more  rapid  than  nearer  the 
equator.  At  Dawson  the  valley  of  the  river  lay  north 
and  south,  and  the  sun  was  visible  in  the  south  for  sev- 
eral hours  at  the  edge  of  the  distant  hill-top;  but  in  all 
the  deep  valleys  which  lay  in  the  other  direction  the  sun 
was  not  visible  from  Xoveml>er  until  February.  Fiftv- 
ft>ur  degrees  below  zero,  registered  on  a  private  spirit- 
thermometer  at  the  barracks,  was  said  to  have  l>een  the 
lowest;  but  probably  at  higher  elevations  the  temjK'ra- 
ture  was  considerably  lower  than  that.  Fortunately  the 
extreme  cold  was  accompanied  with  little  or  no  wind, 
but  the  slightest  movement  of  air  cut  like  a  knife.  In 
the  woods  there  was  absolutely  no  air  stirring. 

The  snow  clung  to  the  trees  in  curiously  formed  masses, 

352 


BKAUTIFl'L  EFFKCTS  OF  SXOW 


exceccliiiii:  in  size  anything  ever  seen  in  the  deep-snow 
rejjions  ol  southern  Canada.  On  the  tops  of  the  moun- 
tains the  most  beautiful  etfeets  were  observed,  each  twijj 
and  tree  bein^  surrounded  with  wliite  crystals  of  snow, 
jjfivinjj  to  the  hindscajH.'  the  appearance  of  havinjij  been 
chiselled  from  spotless  marble.  In  February,  under  the 
increasing  breezes, 
the  snow  began  drop- 
ping; in  March  there 
were  moderate  gales. 
The  sky  in  winter  was 
nearly  cloudless,  and 
the  snow  seemed  to 
come  mostly  from 
banks  of  mist  that 
rose  from  air-holes  in 
the  river  and  drifted 
into  the  valleys.  The 
snow-fall  did  not  ex- 
ceed twoor  three  feet. 
It  was  as  light  as  pow- 
der, and  did  nt>t  settle 
to  any  appreciable  ex- 
lent  until  the  sunny  days  of  early  spring.  Snow-shoeing 
was  exceedingly  tiresome,  and  otT  the  trail  cpn'te  imiH>s. 
sible  with  anything  but  the  largest  Alaska  shoes  or  with 
the  Norwegian  sl/'s. 

When  travelling  in  cold  weather  it  is  necessary  to 
cover  well  the  hands  and  feet  and  to  guard  the  face. 
The  Ixxiy  cares  for  itself.  A  heavy  blanket -coat  over 
w«K>IIen  underwear  is  amply  warm,  especially  if  provided 
with  a  hm)d,  but  an  objectii»n  to  wo<>l  is  that  perspiration 
strikes  through  and  freezes,  especially  over  the  back  and 
shoulders.  When  one  enters  a  warm  cabin  this  melts, 
Z  353 


LiKILl.       i'ARKA 


THE    K  L  ()  NM)  I  K  K    S  T  A  M  V  K  I)  K 

and  unless  ihonnij^hly  drittl  is  apt  to  (ause  a  sevrre 
chill.  I>oer-skin  coats,  altlu)Ui;li  very  "swell,"  arc  mn- 
sidered  too  heavy  when  travelling  fast,  the  miner  pre- 
ferrinjj  the  ordinary  drill  /r/r/v/,  with  fox-tails  around 
the  htKxI,  and  a  puckerinj^-string  to  draw  it  around  the 
face.  The  principal  danger  is  of  breaking  through  thin 
shell-ice.  Even  in  the  severest  weather  water  from  so- 
called  "soda-springs"  flows  out  of  the  hill-sides  and 
over  the  ice  in  the  creeks,  often  buikling  up  masses  of 
ice  known  to  the  miners  as  "glaciers."  So  thin  in  some 
places  is  the  ice  that  the  Indians,  when  making  a  new- 
trail  on  the  river,  alwavs  carrv  a  stick  with  which  t«) 
feel  their  way,  testing  the  ice  ahead  of  them. 

Snow-glasses  are  a  part  of  every  Khnulike  outfit,  as 
at  the  approach  of  spring  the  sun  shining  upon  the 
snow  pnxluces  an  inflammation  of  the  eyes  known  as 
'* snow-blindness."  The  victims  of  snow-bliiulness  are 
compelleil  to  lie  in-dt)ors  often  for  a  week,  suflering  ex- 
cruciating pain.  The  ordinary  snow-glass  is  a  goggle 
of  smoke-colored  glass,  the  sides  being  of  Hue  wire  net- 
ting. Another  kind  is  made  of  blue-stained  mica,  with 
a  rim  of  felt.  Both  are  held  on  with  a  rublur  band 
around  the  head.  The  Indians  blacken  their  cheeks 
with  lamp-black  and  grease,  which  modifies  the  intense 
glare.  At  Dawson  not  one  person  in  ten  wore  glasses 
or  took  any  other  precautions,  and  I  did  not  know  of  a 
case  of  snow-blindness.  By  a  curious  paradox  it  is  said 
that  strong  eyes  are  more  liable  to  snow-bliiulness  than 
weak  ones. 

One  naturally  wonders  how  women  endure  the  dis- 
comforts of  life  in  the  Yukon.  But  we  who  lived  rough- 
ly were  astonished  to  observe  how  the  hand  of  woman 
could  transform  an  interior,  and  w  hat  an  air  of  comfort 

3S4^ 


A    r.RAXD    BALL 


f 


I. 


j^rv.>;?r>^ 


could  be  jjiven,  csiKH-ially  in  tlu-  Imnscs  of  the  traders  and 
other  \velI-t«»-do  persons  wh«»  eoultl  atVord  proper  furni- 
ture. The  numl)er  of  women  in  ranij)  was  a  anuiiuial 
subject  of  comment ;  and  there  wci\'  a  few  children. 
Dawson  was,  in  the 
main,  a  city  composed 
of  j^rown  pi'ople  and 
doj^s.  Four  years  aijo 
there  were  four  white 
women  in  the  Yukon. 
Two  years  later  a  the- 
atrical troujH.*  increased 
thenumlxT.  This  win- 
ter there  were  probably 
two  hundred,  most  of 
whom  were  the  wives  of 
fortunate  miners,  and 
all  of  whi»m  were  as  in- 
tent as  the  men  ui>on 
earnin'fj,  or  helping  to 
earn,  a  ft>rtune. 

Nearly  all  the  first 
old-timers  married  In«l- 
ian  women,  who  have 
shared  the  ^«hkI  fort- 
unes of  their  husMntls 
in  the  Klondike  strike, 

and  are  treated  with  the  s;ime  respect  that  w«»uld  Ik*  ac- 
cordeil  a  white  woman.  At  Pioneer  Hall,  on  New  Year's 
eve,  the  "  Yukon  Order  of  Pioneers  "  jjave  a  jjrand  ball,  at 
which,  it  is  needless  to  say,  **lx»iled  "  shirts  were  not  t/c' 
riNfj^/Zi/zr,  but  several  were  in  evidence,  in  which  their  wear- 
ers, more  accustomed  to  Hannels,  l«H>ked  extremely  un- 
comfortable.   They  brought  their  Indian  wives,  who  in 

3SS 


JM>I\N    \V<»M\N    I\    FANCY    TARKA 


THE    KLOXDIKH    STAMPKDI': 


turn  broiijjht  tin*  iliildrcn,  and  it  niado  a  (juaint  sij^ht. 
the  men,  some  in  fur  /»</;7v/.v,  olhi-rs  in  hlaik  broad- 
cloth, and  all  in  moorasins;  the  wonun  decked  t»ut  in  their 
best  and  newest  "store  "elothes,  not  nuieli  behiiid  tlie  fash- 
ion either  ;  the  l)al)ies  in  txUl  littie/t/r/v/.v,  playinjj^  on  tiie 
floor  under  the  feet  (»f  the  dancers  ;  and,  as  a  Hnal  touch 
to  the  picture,  here  and  there  a  lost  doij  lot>kinij  for  its 
owner.  Tickets  to  this,  the  swell  event  of  the  season,  w  ere 
$12.50,  which  inchuled  an  excellent  supper. 

The  Yukon  Order  of  Pioneers  was  ory:anized  by  *'  Jack  " 
McQuesten,  at  Circle  City,  for  the  purpose  t>f  furtlu-rini:: 

the  interests  of  its  members,  carinj^  f*»r 
them  when  sick,  buryinj^  them  when 
dead.  Xo  one  is  elij^ible  who  came  into 
the  Yukon  since  1.S95.  It  numbers  sev- 
enty or  eighty  active  meml)ers,  ami  one 
honorary  member,  Caj)tain  Constantine. 
The  badge  of  the  society  is  <»f  gold — a 
BADGEOF  vcKON  carpeutcr's  rule  partly  folded,  the  two 
ORDER  OF  I'loNEfcRs  amis  bciug  crossed  with  a  spray  t>f  lau- 
rel, with  the  letters  Y.  O.  ().  I*,  inside. 
No  news  of  the  outside  world  reached  us  until  Janu- 
ary 4th,  when  Andrew  Flett,  a  Mackenzie  River  halt- 
breed,  arrived  from  Little  Salmon  with  a  team  of  fi>ur 
dogs  and  mail  for  the  otficials,  bringing  the  news,  re- 
ceived with  mingled  joy  and  ilisgust,  that  he  had  left  at 
that  place  nine  other  teams  loaded  with  public  mail. 
He  had  left  it  behind,  not  ilaring  to  bring  all  the  dogs  to 
Dawson  until  he  knew  he  could  secure  fo<Kl.  We  learned 
for  the  first  time  from  the  messenger  ai  the  general 
anxiety  about  our  safety,  of  the  action  of  Congress  for 
our  relief,  and  the  despatching  <)f  a  reindeer  relief  ex- 
pedition. There  was  also  at  Little  Salmon  half  a  ton  of 
old  mail,  some  of  which  had  passed  Lindcman  before  my 

.356 


PAT    GALVIN 

departure,  and  was  "held  up"  at  Ta^ish  awaitinp:  the 
new  governor,  Major  James  M.  Walsh,  and  other  i>rticcrs 
of  tlic  government,  who,  however,  started  so  late  that 
they  were  all  frozen  in  near  Utile  Salmon. 

As  early  as  Christmas,  private  dog-teams  were  otfere<l 
to  bring  this  mail  into  Dawson,  but  the  authorities  de- 
clined, expecting  their  own  dogs  to  arrive  soon.  On  Fel>- 
ruary  26th  every  i>ound  of  mail  that  forty  dogs  could 
pull  came  in,  and  there  was  great  rejoicing.  Clipf>ings 
of  imiH)rtant  news  (we  did  n<»t  yet  know  of  the  loss  of  the 
Maiiw)  were  enclosed  in  letters,  and  these  were  passed 
around  from  hanil  to  hand  and  eagerly  read.  After  this 
teams  fnmi  the  coast  arrived  frequently.  Every  re- 
s|H>nsil)le  private  outfit  that  went  out  carried  its  batch  of 
letters  sealed  in  waterpnxif  tin  l)oxes.  The  government 
charge  was  only  three  cents  a  letter,  the  same  as  in 
other  parts  of  Canada,  but  the  first  government  mail  did 
not  leave  until  March.  More  than  one  precious  parcel 
«»f  letters  may  have  been  thrown  by  the  way-side  by  these 
private  carriers — indeed,  one  such  parcel  was  found,  and 
the  felK>w  was  caught,  but  he  explained  that  he  had  l)ecn 
obligeil  to  leave  it  and  had  intendetl  to  go  back  for  it 
in  the  spring.  A  ditlerent  sort  of  man  was  Patrick,  or 
**  Pat,"  (ialvin,  as  he  is  familiarly  known,  formerly  tin- 
smith at  Circle  City,  but  now  a  man  who  pays  his  bills 
in  golden  eagles  manufactured  from  his  own  Klondike 
gold  by  Uncle  Sam.  Just  before  the  break-up  (lalvin 
came  in  on  the  run,  and,  hastily  finishing  some  business, 
started  back,  making  Fort  Silkirk,  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  miles,  in  the  remarkable  time  of  three  and  a 
half  days.  There  he  left  his  dogs,  and.  with  an  Indian 
guide,continued  on, carrying  twenty-eight  |)i»undsof  mail. 
The  pack  containetl,  besides  letters  with  drafts  aggregat- 
ing $40,000,  a  parcel,  encased  in  tin,  of  manuscript  and 

357 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

sketches  for  IIarpkr's  Wkkkly,  woij^hinp^  nearly  three 
pounds,  which  (lalvin  had  undertaken  to  carry  for  me  to 
the  coast,  a  service  for  which  he  scorned  a  cent  of  pay. 
The  Indian  descrtetl  him  after  he  had  tuld  him  of  a  short 
cut  that  would  save  much  time.  Cialvin  stopped  two  men 
on  theirway  in  and  turned  them  back.  They  lost  their 
way  in  the  cut-otf,  and  wandered  for  si.x  days,  most  oi 
the  time  without  footl.  At  one  time  they  j;ave  up  all  as 
lost,  and  left  their  names  on  birch-bark  on  the  top  of  a 
mountain,  but,  pushing  on  with  remarkable  fi>rtitude, 
they  at  length  recovered  the  trail.  During  these  si.\ 
days  the  men  Galvin  had  turned  back  would  not  share 
with  him  a  p«jund  of  the  load  of  mail.  In  due  season  a 
parcel  reached  Franklin  Sipiarc,  accompanieil  by  a  hast- 
ily  scrawled  note,  which  those  who  opened  it  perhaps 
little  understood.  Galvin  had  written,  "I  would  not  i\o 
it  again  for  $25,000,"  and  any  one  who  knows  Galvin 
knows  he  meant  every  word  he  said.  As  an  example  of 
faithfulness  to  trust,  of  pure  bull-dog  grit,  this  experi- 
ence of  Galvin's  has  few  equals. 

The  dreary  expanse  of  snow  between  Dawson  and  the 
coast  saw  trains  of  human  l)eings  and  dogs  going  out, 
meeting  other  trains  l)ounil  in,  or  living  in  cabins  wher- 
ever they  were  stopped  by  the  ice.  The  |H)lice,  with 
stations  at  White  H«»rse  Rapids,  Lake  Labarge.  Hoota- 
linqua.  Big  Salmon,  Freeman's  Point,  and  Little  Salmon, 
furnished  relief,  except  for  which  many  would  have  gone 
to  their  death  by  the  side  of  the  narrow  white  trail. 

The  mere  eager  new-comers  left  the  main  part  of  their 
outfits  in  charge  of  one  of  their  party,  and  pushed  on 
to  Dawson,  where  they  exchanged  provisions,  (^ound  for 
pound,  with  outgoing  parties  —  an  arrangement  t>f  the 
greatest  advantage  to  both. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

Sprin}»  in  ihc  Yukon — Last  |»t»jj  Tcain%  from  Otifsiifc — Ilonfe  t»f  Ncw- 
Conicr*  at  llic  llca«l  of  the  Kixt-r.  Waiting;  for  tlic  Ice  to  G«>  <hil — 
Failure  of  the  Keimleer  Kclirf  Kxi-ethtion — Preparing  for  the  •*lKM»m" 
— The  ••Cleanup"  lleijun  —  The  KhnuliLe  Urcakv  l.««»r*  —  Terrific 
Fi»rcc  of  the  Ice — The  Yukon  still  S>li«l — Will  I)aw^<>n  l«c  Warhol 
Away  ?—•*  The  Ice  ix  C.oinj;  thii  •*— -'l  hcchahkt»s  r—Ki^;*  a  IX^Ilar 
ami  a  Half — The  "June  KiNc" — L>awM»a  Uuiler  Water 


HE  moment  the  sprinjj  sun 
j;aiiicil  a  place  in  the  sky  the 
snow  on  the  southern  hill- 
sitles  dwindled  away  like  majj- 

IllJi^    >fll  1^.1^1  *^'»   t"r"»»i>    the  creek    trails 

^ t^e^S-^I^^TL.,^^  into  streams  of  water  which 

4[M^^^*^^i|^|7^^*«^^     j^rew    in    vohime    with    each 

V*^       vf  -  W      *>i  sucxx'eding  day.     The  fi»rests 

seemed  to  burst  into  life  and 
the  air  was  laden  with  the  s«mjj  and  twitter  of  hirds. 
By  the  middle  of  April  the  snow  was  gone  from  the  flat 
at  I)aws<^>n,  and  the  sun,  alihouj^h  not  so  high  in  the 
heavens,  was  shining  for  as  many  hours  as  in  the  middle 
United  Slates  on  the  longest  day  of  the  year.  Moccasins 
and  furs  were  laid  away,  and  their  places  were  taken  by 
rubber  hip-boots  and  broad-brimmetl  felt  hats.  At  night, 
however, enough  winter  returncil  to  freeze  the  trails  for 
the  «log- teams  hurrying  supplies  and  lumber  to  the 
mines  before  the  final  break-up. 
The  last  teams  in  from  the  outside  brought  confirm- 

359 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

ing  news  of  the  magnitude  of  the  Klondike  stampede. 
The  crowd  f)ouring  over  the  j)asses  was  such  as  the 
world  had  never  seen  before.  At  Skagway  the  W(kk1s 
were  cleared  off,  buildings  were  going  up  "faster  than 
they  could  get  the  lumber,"  and  the  town  contained 
seven  thousand  people,  and  was  growing  fast.  A  toll- 
road,  known  as  **Hrackctt*s  Road,"  had  been  constructed 
over  White  Pass  for  wagons  and  horse-sleds,  and  freight- 
ing was  reduced  to  15  cents  a  pound  from  Skagway  to 
Bennett.  Where  three  thousand  horses  lay  dead,  a 
stream  of  men,  dogs,  and  horses  were  moving  easily. 
Dyea,  which  in  December  consisted  of  three  white  men's 
houses,  was  a  mile  and  a  half  long  and  contained  from 
five  to  si.\  thousand  souls.  A  stream  of  human  beings 
dragged  their  hand-sleds  up  the  now  sm<K)th  trail,  and 
over  the  summit  all  day  long  marched  a  thin  black  line 
of  men  with  packs,  Imking  step,  so  dose  together  that 
they  could  touch.  First  a  whim,  or  endless  cable,  was 
put,  for  drawing  loaded  sleds  to  the  top,  and  later  an 
"aerial  tramway,"  a  steel  cable  elevated  on  iM>sts,  with 
swinging  buckets,  was  operating  l>etween  Sheep  Camp 
and  Crater  Lake,  goods  being  carried  from  Dyea  t<» 
Lindeman  for  8  cents  a  |)ound.  The  Canadian  govern- 
ment had  made  gooil  its  claim  to  the  passes  as  the  inter- 
national boundary  by  establishing  custom  offices  at  l)oth 
summits  and  there  taking  duties  on  American  goods. 
The  mounted  police,  in  fear  of  famine,  had  been  allowing 
no  person  without  credentials  to  cross  the  summit  with- 
out a  thousand  pounds  of  provisions.  Along  the  lakes 
the  new-comers  were  putting  iK^ats  together,  ready  to 
start  for  Daws^jn  with  the  (»pening  of  the  river  in  May. 

The  effort  of  the  United  States  government,  when 
apparent  confirmation  of  rumors  of  a  serious  shortage 
of  food  was  received  from  Daws<jn,  to  send  a  relief  exj^e- 

360 


•  * 


^ 


•> 


:^ 


(f'  % 


^.:W 


-    • 


t .  .     • 


REINDEER    RELIEF    EXPEDITION 

dttion  by  reindeer,  came  to  a  disastrous  end,  the  deer 
having  reached  no  fartlier  than  the  coast  en<l  of  the  Dal- 
ton  trail,  over  which  it  had  been  intended  they  should 
proceed  to  the  relief  of  Dawson  and  Circle  City.  Al- 
though, happily,  the  help  was  not  needed,  it  was  a  mat- 
ter of  keen  regret  to  all  who  had  followed  closely  the 
intrcxluctioii  of  domesticated  reindeer  into  Alaska  that 
this  the  first  practical  opj)ortunity  to  demonstrate  their 
usefulness  ended  in  disaster;  for  if  reindeer  had  failed, 
there  was  no  means  under  heaven  by  which  help  could 
have  reached  us.  The  domesticated  reindeer  will  no 
doubt  prove  to  be  as  well  adapted  for  the  Yukon  valley 
as  Its  near  relative,  the  wild  reindeer  or  caribou,  of  the 
same  region,  or  the  domesticated  herds  of  eastern  Sil)e- 
ria.  For  upward  of  eight  years  the  government,  through 
Dr.  Sheldon  Jackson,  General  Agent  of  Education  for 
Alaska,  had  endeavored  to  effect  the  intHnluction  into 
western  Alaska  of  the  domesticated  deer,  which  they  se- 
cured annually  from  th.e  Siberian  herdsmen,  until,  along 
with  their  natural  increase,  the  herd  numbered  upward 
of  fifteen  hundred  deer,  stationed  at  the  Teller  Reindeer 
Station,  Port  Clarence,  and  at  Golovin  I5ay,  Hehring 
Sea.  The  main  purpose  of  the  movers  in  this  enterprise 
was  to  furnish  fmxl  and  clothing  to  the  starving  Eski- 
mos, and,  eventually,  means  of  transjK)rtation  in  winter 
to  and  from  our  far  northern  stations,  a  service  which 
deer  should  perform  as  well  in  Ala>ka  as  in  Lapland. 

When  the  news  of  our  perilous  situation  reached  the 
government,  it  hap|)ened  that  the  revenue-cutter  Jnar 
had  just  dejKirted  from  Port  Townsend,  Washington, 
with  an  expedition,  under  Lieutenant  D.  11.  Jarvis,  for 
the  relief  of  eight  whaling- vessels  imprisonetl  in  the  ice 
at  Point  Barrow.  Lieutenant  Jarvis  was  instructed  to 
take  all  the  available  government  deer,  and  he  ultimate- 

363 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


ly  reached  Point  Barrow,  havinc:  successfully  driven  ^S2 
deer  a  distance  of  over  eij^ht  hundred  miles.  Conse- 
quently, there  beinjj  no  government  deer  available.  C<»n- 
jjress,  on  the  iSth  of  l)ecem!)er,  passed  "An  act  author- 
izing the  Secretary  of  War,  in  his  discretion,  to  purchase 
subsistence  stores,  supplies,  and  materials  for  the  relief 
of  people  who  are  in  the  Yukon  River  country,  to  pro- 
vide means  for  their  transjH>rtation  and  distribution." 
and  made  an  appropriation  therefor.     Dr.  Jackson  was 


*P 


'^P*^-^ 


«  J^PI^**  III      !         —4-.  4         Mk-l  I  V  — . 


%  .,'?* 


_T^*iMI'"'«'"^'^^ 

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■  »^*     ._            ■-  .-*^.^*  - 

"^  '.s. 

-. '  '          :^^-'^^^^^r^-:'^^. 

•1  v*^.-*   ♦ 

•*^j. . 

■'  y't 

^V  ' ->-ii«s'"'*''"--'^''^;-^^  ■  .*''  i;^.  ' >':^  Jv 

kr-::"  ■  :-  -  .;      • 

^:>^'- 

■  -Z-"--'-     ~.       <-'■    v?     '-fc^   •■>.-"■-'     -.-  -  ■- 

« 

rXITED    STATES    GOVERNMKNT     RF.INr>FKR      RFI  IKF     KXTKIMlluN  —  PFF.R 

I1ARNF>>£U   TO   Si  EI»S 


despatched  to  Norway  to  purchase  deer,  and  on  the  iSih 
of  February  reached  New  York  with  539  deer.  al>o 
sleds  and  harness  complete,  and  114  Lapj)s  and  Finns 
to  drive  the  deer.  The  deer  reached  Seattle  on  March 
7th,  having  lost  but  one  of  their  number;  but  here, 
while  waiting  nine  days  for  trans|M»rtation,  they  were 
fed  on  grass,  through  the  desire  of  the  otVuer  having 
them  in  charge  to  save  the  reindeer-moss  that  came 
with  them,  and  several  died.     Finally,  the  herd  reacheil 

364 


PRKPARIX<;    FOR    TIIK    "HOOM' 

Haine's  Mission,  Pyrainiil  HatlHir,  from  whirh  point  tluv 
should  have  been  at  once  driven  tt>  tlie  niosstieltls,  a  few 
miles  distant  ;  but  instruelions  rej^ardinjjj  them  sent  to 
the  officer  in  et>mmand  of  the  United  States  soldiers  at 
Dyea,  thouj^h  mailed  at  Ska^way,  did  not  reach  him, 
four  miles  distant,  until  a  week  later,  so  that  when  the 
order  came  to  move  it  was  too  late;  thev  were  so  weak- 
eneil  by  unaccustomed  f«H>d  that  they  began  to  die  rap- 
idly, and  l>y  the  time  they  reached  abundant  pasturay[e 
in  the  Chilkat  pass,  only  fifty  miles  distant,  but  1S3  ilecr 
remained  alive,  and  the  expedition  was  abandi>ned.  The 
survivors  were  subse<|uently  driven  to  Circle  City. 

At  Dawson  buildings  of  every  descriptit)n  sprang  up 
like  mushrooms  in  a  night,  from  the  black,  reeking  bog. 
Many  of  them  were  of  substantial  logs  and  lumber,  but 
the  greater  part,  both  large  and  small,  were  mere  cover- 
ings, intended  to  last  only  through  the  summer. 

First  a  frame  of  rough  scantling  went  up,  then  a  cov- 
ering of  white  or  blue  drilling  hastily  stitched  together 
into  the  form  of  a  tent  and  thrown  over,  with  openings 
for  m'indows  and  d<H>rs  ;  fitted  with  seats  aiul  tables  ft)r 
restaurants,  with  shelves  and  counters  for  stores,  and 
with  the  appropriate  furniture  for  gambling-houses  and 
saloons.  Several  buildings  of  dressed  lumber,  intendeil 
for  use  as  stores,  hotels,  and  theatres,  were  as  handsome 
as  one  would  care  to  see.  The  river-front  was  leased 
by  the  government  officials  to  a  favored  individual  for 
about  $1  a  fiK>t  per  month,  and  re-leased  by  him  to 
builders  at  $.S  to  $12  a  foot  per  month;  and  this  was 
stdidly  packed  with  tent-covered  frames,  excepting  a  few- 
hundred  feet  reserveil  for  the  landing  of  steamers  and 
at  the  ends  of  two  cross- streets.  Building  lots  were  held 
at  extravagant  prices.  As  high  as  $20,000  was  paid  for 
a  desirable  corner  lot  for  a  saloon,  while  a  two  -  story 

365 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

log  builtlinj^  in  the  centre  of  town  was  worth  with  the 
lot  anywhere  from  $;o.ooo  to  $40,000.  .The  jj^«»vern- 
ment  siirveyeil  what  piiblir  land  hail  not  l>een  previous- 
ly granted  to  town-site  claimants  intt)  4ox6o-ftx»t  lots 
for  cabins,  and  assessed  locators  from  $200  to  $500  each, 
prices  which  they  justified  as  iR-ing  only  half  the  **  mar- 
ket value.**  Three  saw-mills,  running  night  and  <lay, 
were  unable  to  su[)ply  the  demand  f<^r  lumlH*r,  which 
was  worth  at  the  mill  $150  to  $joo  per  thousaml  feet. 
Men  stood  with  teams  waiting,  taking  the  l>oards  as 
they  fell  from  the  saw.  Xails  were  so  scarce  that  a  keg 
of  100  pounds  brought  $500  ;  a  single  pound  cost  $6,  and 
§3.50  per  pound  was  paid  for  burned  nails  fri»m  the  nnns 
of  the  **  OjH^ra- house."  So  that  a  building  4>f  the  >ize 
of  some  of  those  that  went  up  cost  $5cyo  to  probably 
$to,ooo  for  the  shell  alone.  f)ne  of  the  trading  ci»mpa- 
nies  had  a  large  st<xk  of  cotton  drilling,  worth  |>erhaps 
8  cents  a  yani,  which  it  <lispo>ed  of  at  75  cents  a  yanl. 

A  wood  -  working  establishment,  which  worketl  all 
winter  turning  out  well-made  furniture  an<I  cabinet- 
wort,  supplied  most  of  the  fittings  of  salo<ins  and 
stores. 

The  final  thaw  came  on  so  suddenly  that  I  succee<le<I 
in  getting  only  one  sled-load  of  stuff  from  the  cabin  t«» 
town.  On  May  ist  muddv  water  in  lionanza  Cret^-k 
showetl  that  sluicing  had  tx-gun.  On  the  3<l  it  came 
over  the  low  bank,  flo<Hling  the  woo<ls  and  ri-^ing  three 
inches  on  the  floor  of  the  cabin.  It  is  not  exactly  en- 
joyable having  to  w*adc  about  the  house  in  rubber  boots, 
fighting  mosquitoes,  trying  to  c«><»k  a  flapjack  or  make 
a  cup  cf  tea  over  the  stove,  and  climbing  in  and  out  of  a 
high  bunk  with  Ixwjts  on.  At  the  end  of  just  two  days  I 
struck  for  town.  The  Klondike  was  still  frozen  fast  to 
the  bottom,  but  the  river  was  running  bank-full,  to  all 

366 


THE    KLONDIKE    T.  R  E  A  K  S    LOOSE 

ap|>caramcs  oj^jn.  Two  bri<I|^es  over  the  Klondike  had 
just  been  tinishtti:  *»iu*  mi  seven  stont  piers  at  the  mill, 
and  the  other  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kl«»udike,a  suspension 
foot-bridjje  in  two  sjKins  (one  for  each  channel),  l)uilt  of 
boards' and  scantlinj;  sus|>ended  from  an  inch-wire  cable 
over  larjje  spruce  spars.  A  crowd,  mostly  miners  on 
their  way  up  the  jjulch,  and  others  just  loafers  (for  man- 
kind in  j(eneral  is  as  prt>ne  to  loaf  as  hard  at  $15  a  tlay 
as  at  $1),  was  j^aihereil  at  the  Dawson  end  of  the  latter. 
The  ground-ice,  l«»«»seninij  from  the  l)otti»m,  now  bejjan 
to  heave,  and  was  jamming?  tlan^erously  on  the  shoals. 
The  ice  was  already  level  with  the  tUnir  of  the  bridjje 
when  some  dynamite  ItMJseneil  the  jam  anti  the  ice  moved 
out.  Just  then  a  cry  was  raised,  "  The  upper  bridge  is 
gone!"  and,  looking,  we  saw  s^ime  sticks  of  sawed  timber 
float  by. 

What  had  taken  place  shows  the  p«>wer  of  ice.  Only  two 
piers  remained, and  it^ljergs  as  large  as  small  cal)ins  were 
setting  about  in  the  river-bed  and  among  the  stumps  and 
cabins  on  the  flat.  Several  men,  who  were  wringing  out 
ch>thes  and  drying  portions  of  outfits  in  the  sun,  said  they 
saw  the  ice  jam  above  the  piers  and  lx.*gin  to  pile  up,  with 
the  water  behind  it.  Suddenly  it  broke  over  the  brink  and 
started  across  the  flat,  making  for  the  cabins.  The  same 
moment  a  gigantic  floe  in  the  middle  of  the  jam — and 
that  was  all  that  saved  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  cal>- 
ins  and  twice  that  many  lives — started,  picked  the  bridge 
up  as  if  it  had  been  a  bunch  of  matches,  and  the  rest 
followed  crashing,  bearing  five  spans  beforb  it ;  and,  thus 
relieved,  the  water  fell  as  quickly  as  it  n>se,  leaving  the 
flat  strewn  with  ice,  logs,  and  luml>er.  The  ice  crowded 
again  below  into  a  slough  at  the  mouth  of  Bonanza 
Creek,  and  the  cabins  of  the  settlement  were  fl4M)ded 
to  the  eaves  for  several  days,  their  occupants,  some  of 

367 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMIMU)E 

whom  were  sick,  escaping  to  the  roofs,  where  they  re- 
mained until  lK»ats  came  t<»  their  rescue. 

On  the  Cth  <>f  May  the  Yukon  bei^an  to  rise  rapidly, 
lifting  the  ice,  which,  however,  remained  fast  in  front  of 
the  town.  Hundreds  of  anxious  men  kept  to  the  streets 
that  nijj^ht,  believing,  as  the  old-timers  said,  that  if  it 
jammed  as  the  Klondike  had  it  would  sweep  the  town 
away.    The  water  stoixl  within  two  feet  of  the  top  of 


«:<*L^V*4Mi^i;te<fa'-.?::'<- 


TITKOJC  ICl-PLOBS 


the  bank.  Captain  Constantine,  who  knew  what  the 
river  might  do,  walked  along  the  water-front  and  re- 
garded the  situation  with  evitlent  anxiety.  The  sight 
was  one  to  inspire  respect.  When  a  big  Hoe,  forty  feet 
across,  struck  the  front  of  the  barrier,  it  half  rose  out 
of  the  water,  then  dived  under,  or  turned  on  t(\^v, 
crunched  into  the  front  with  a  dull  roar,  and  remained 
there.  Now  and  then  an  empty  boat  was  seen  to  strike, 
careen,  and  go  under.  At  four  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  the  iJth  the  cry  was  raised,  **  The  ice  is  going  out !" 

368 


FIRST    CimClIAHKO   ARRIVES 

and  cvcrylxHly  nishctl  f»iit  in  time  to  sec  the  hritlj^e  of 
ice  crark,  pjroan,  then  slowly  push  toj^ether  ant!  stop; 
then  slowly,  slowly  the  whole  mass  bej^an  to  move»  and 
in  a  few  minutes  there  was  nothing  hut  a  swift  river, 
with  cakes  of  ice  as  big  as  cabins  strewn  along  the 
banks. 

The  oUI-timers  saiil  we  should  see  a  chcchixhko  "on  the 
tail  of  the  last  cake  of  ice,"  implying  thereby  that  the 
old-timers  knew  enough  to  give  ice-jams  a  wide  l)erth. 
Not  long  after  the  ice  went  out,  the  cry  ^^  Clucltaliko T* 
was  heard.  All  eyes  were  turnetl  towards  Klondike 
City,  and  we  could  see  a  boat  just  coming  intt>  sight, 
with  several  men  in  it.  As  it  drew  nearer  it  proved  to 
l)e  a  large  Yukon  bi>at  containing  five  men  and  some 
sled-dogs  and  sleds.  As  it  driftetl  down  a  crowd  num- 
bering several  hundred  followed  it  alH>ut  a  mile,  when 
it  pulled  in-shore.  When  the  crowd  learned  that  they 
were  only  from  Stewart  River,  they  were  disgusted. 
We  had  hardly  got  luck  when  two  men  in  a  bright- 
green  new  **  Peterborough  *'  slipixfd  in,  and  as  they 
stepped  ashore  they  were  greeted  with  hearty  hand- 
shakes and  other  signs  of  recognition, and  then  we  knew 
they  were  not  chcchahkos^  and  that  an  old-timer  had 
broken  the  rule.  A  crowd  immediately  surrounded 
them,  asking  questions.  They  had  left  Bennett  six  days 
before,  rowed  day  and  night,  taking  turns  alternately 
rowing  and  sleeping,  and  sledded  over  Labarge.  Sev- 
eral thousand  f>ei»ple  were  an»und  the  shores  of  that 
lake,  with  lx»ats  built,  waiting  for  the  ice  to  go  out. 

Presently  came  another  Peterb<jrough,  then  another 
— there  were  three  or  f»»ur  canoes  in  now  ;  in  one  was  a 
chichahko.  One  of  the  canoes  brought  a  case  of  fresh 
eggs,  which  were  snatched  up,  at  $i8  a  dozen,  by  the 
miners,  famished  for  .something  fresh  and  new.  A  few 
2A  369 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

more  l)oats  i^jot  in.  f)riii|^ini^  word  that  the  lake  had 
opened  up  a  narri»\v'  eraek,  tlimu^^h  which  they  had 
worked  at  jjjreat  risk  ;  it  had  elosetl  after  them.  We 
noted  the  eay^erness  of  tlie  first  to  ^vi  in,  and  compared 
it  with  our  own.  I  low  they  were  strainini^  every  nerve 
and  muscle  to  bo  a  day,  an  hour,  ahead  of  the  crtiwd  ! 

The  moment  the  ice  went  out  five  f<K)lish  persons,  of 
whom  I  myself  was  one,  paid  $iao  for  a  worn-out  polinj^- 
boat  (new  ones  bein^  worth  $250  to  $'^00  each)  and  start- 
ed f«>r  White  River,  where  a  hite-comer  over  the  ice  re- 
ported having  found  a  vein  of  very  rich  cpiartz.  There 
had  been  hope  that  the  "mother  loile,"  from  wliich  the 
Bonanza  and  Eldorado  placers  came,  wouki  eventually 
be  found.  During  the  winter  Captain  Healy  .set  men  to 
work  tunnelling  in  several  places  in  the  neighlx)rhoo(l 
of  Dawson,  but  without  encouraijinjx  resrdt,  none  of  the 
ore  found  provinjj  sutHciently  high-j^rade  to  work.  The 
samples  allej^ed  to  come  from  White  River  showed  ore  of 
immense  richness,  alth<Hiy:h  suspiciously  like  ore  from 
Cripple  Creek,  Colorado.  Consequently,  the  town  was 
agog. 

Five  parties  set  out  in  In^ats  and  canoes.  Ours  was 
the  first  b<iat  to  reach  Stewart  River,  making  the  si.xty- 
eight  miles  in  seven  days  of  the  hardest  struggle.  Two 
besides  ours  reached  the  ledge,  but  t)nly  by  leaving  their 
boats  and  proceeding  overland,  being  unable  to  face  the 
terrific  force  of  the  river  against  the  tall,  often  perjH-ndii^- 
ular  cliflfs  that  line  the  Yukon  for  miles.  After  ten  days 
of  truly  fearful  e.xertion,  often  at  the  same  time  |H)ling, 
rowing,  towing,  and  chopping  trees,  great  numbers  of 
which  had  been  undermined  and  fallen  into  the  water, 
we  reached  our  destination,  and  discovered  the  hoax. 
Starting  back,  we  met  the  advance-guard  of  the  new- 
comers, and  learned  that   Labarge  was  clear.     A  few 

370  .  . 


THE    "jrXK    RISK" 

hours  l:itf r.  !)<)riu*  on  the  f>osoin  of  tlic  Hood,  or  "June 
risf,"  t  auscd  hy  tlic  imltiiii::  snows  and  glaciers  in  the 
mountains,  we  fotuul  Klondike  City  under  water,  the 
mouth  of  the  Klondike  like  a  mil!  -  pond,  the  suspen- 
sion-bridj^e  j^one»and  numbers  of  people,  many  of  whom 
we  recojjnized  as  new-comers, ijjoinj^  alM)ut  in  boats  where 
we  had  lately  walked  in  fatuied  security. 


KAtT  OF   HOtSE   LoOS  OX   TlIK   kLONDIKE   RIVER 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

Flood  at  Da\i-wn  — The  Ml.lni^ht  Sun  — Tlie  New  Comers  — A  Vast, 
Strange  Throng— Miles  t>f  IJ.Kits — I'lcnty  tif  (Iruh — Tlie  IteCrcam 
Itusiness — New  C'omtrs' Oj»iiii«>n  of  I)a\vs<^»n — I  >i<i|>|M)intC(.l  Men — 
A  Ty|)c  of  Klontliker — MagnitU'le  of  Prcparaiions  fi>r  l{uNine>s  at  St. 
Michael — Arrival  of  the  First  Steamer — A  Swell  I>awM.>n  Hotel — 
First  Steamer  fnun  the  Lakes — Magnitude  of  the  KIomliLe  Stamjietle 

^  pROBABLY  two  hundred  l)oats  <>f  various 
^^  kinds,  from  Lake  Superior  birch-canoes 
to  scows  with  horses  on  them,  were  tied 
up  at  Klondike  City  and  the  Dawson 
bank  of  the  Klondike,  ami  the  hill-side 
was  white  with  tents  of  new-comers  and 
others  who  had  been  driven  out  of  the 
cabins  on  the  low  ground.  The  central  part  of  Dawson 
was  under  from  one  to  five  feet  of  water.  The  bar- 
racks were  cut  off,  and  i>eople  were  j::«>itip:  for  their 
mail  in  boats  and  canoes,  while  the  j^oM  commissioner 
and  his  staff  were  driven  to  a  tent  on  higher  ijroimd. 
Enterprising  boatmen  were  carrying  passengers  along 
the  main  street,  charging  50  cents  a  head. 

It  was  now  at  midnight  as  bright  as  day.  The  sun 
rose  behind  M(X)sehide  Mountain,  swung  around  half- 
way to  the  zenith,  and  disap[)eared  behind  the  mountain 
again  after  twenty  hours  continuous  sliining.  From  the 
hill-tops  the  sun  was  clearly  visible  during  the  twenty- 
four  hours.  In  the  tents  it  was  uncomfortably  hot,  and 
the  glare  was  trying  to  the  eyes  and  nerves.     Not  only 

i72 


THE    MIDNIGHT    SUN 

could  one  easily  see  to  read  inside  a  tent  at  midnight, 
but  it  was  lij^lit  enough  out-doors  for  a  "snapshot"  with 
a  good  photographic  Kns.  During  mid-day  the  temper- 
ature rose  to  70^  in  the  shade.  The  very  sparrows  and 
snow-birds  in  the  brush  on  the  hill-side  lay  still  by  day 
and  sang  and  hunted  at  night.  No  one  ever  felt  like 
going   to   bed.     It   was  a  considerable    bother,  without 


watch  or  compass,  to  tell  the  time  of  day.  A  man 
would  ask  another,  "What  time  is  it  ?"  **  Ten  o'cKK'k/* 
the  answer  might  be.     **  Morning  or  evening  ?" 

A  few  persons  lived  on  the  tops  of  their  cabins,  with 
a  tent  and  stove,  and  a  boat  tied  at  the  corner  of  the 
roof  to  get  ashore  with.  From  my  own  tent,  on  a  steep 
blutf  overl(M)king  the  wh<»le  scene,  I  would  see  a  man 
at,  say,  1 1  p.m.,  push  otf  fn»m  shore,  pole  over  t<»  a  cabin, 
clamber  out  onto  the  roof,  take  off  his  shoes,  walk  over  to 

373 


THE    KLOXDIKi:    STAMPEDE 

a  pile  of  blankets,  unroll  them,  then  take  off  his  coat, 
place  it  for  a  pillow,  and  turn  in  for  a  night's  sleep — all 
in  broad  daylight. 

The  river  subsided  rapidly,  and  the  new-iomers  con- 
tinued to  |)4)ur  in.  Each  one  said  that  the  crowd  was 
behind  him.  The  authorities  turned  over  to  them  tem- 
|)orarily  a  {X)rtion  of  the  military  reservation.  Their 
tents  whitened  the  hill-sitles,  and  whnle  acres  were  cuv- 
eretl  so  thickly  that  from  a  little  distance  they  ap- 
peared as*  ma.sses  of  white.  At  Klondike  City,  along  the 
Klondike  for  a  mile,  and  down  the  l)ank  of  the  Yukon 
to  the  far  end  of  town,  among  bowUlers  and  roiks, 
wherever  there  was  a  space  of  ground  large  and  dry 
enough,  there  were  tents.  A  morass  in  the  middle  of 
the  town -site  was  the  only  ground  not  txcupied.  A 
part  of  the  overflow  crossed  the  Yukon.  From  the 
p*>int  of  hill  above  my  tent  I  counted  twenty -eight 
hundred  tents,  including  those  on  scows,  in  each  of 
which  three  to  five  or  more  persons  were  then  living. 

The  boats,  from  the  graceful  reterl)orough  canoe  to 
freight-scows  forty  feet  long, carrying  twenty  tons,  were 
tied  up  side  by  side  along  one  and  three-quarter  miles 
of  water-front,  a  solid  phalanx  from  one  to  si.x  feet 
deep! 

Who  is  there  that  can  describe  the  crowd,  curious. 
Iistles.s,  dazed,  dragging  its  way  with  slow,  lagging  stef) 
along  the  main  street?  Can  this  l)e  the  "rush"  that 
newspapers  are  accustomed  to  desirilx;  as  the  move- 
ment of  gold-seekers?  Have  the  hard,  weary  months  of 
work  on  the  trails  exhausted  their  vitality?  or  is  it  the 
heavy  shoes  that  make  them  drag  their  feet  so  wearily 
along  the  street  ? 

It  is  a  motley  throng — every  degree  of  pc*rs*>n  gath- 
ered from  every  corner  of  the  earth,  from  every  State 

57A 


tfifr  rtimimriam^iiiStMlk 


DESCRirTlON.  OF    N  i:  \V-C  O  M  i:  R  s 

of  the  Union,  and  from  every  city  —  weather-  beaten, 
sunburned,  with  snow- glasses  over  their  hats,  just  as 
ihey  came  from  the  passes.  Australians  with  upturn- 
ed sleeves  and  a  swaj^ger ;  young  Kngli>hnien  in  golf- 
stockings  and  tweeds;  would-be  miners  in  Maekinaws 
and  rubl)er  b<K)ts,  i»r  heavy,  high-laced  sh()es;  Japanese, 
negroes  —  and  women,  1<k),  everywhere.  It  is  a  vast 
herd;  they  crowd  the  boats  and  fill  the  streets,  lt»ok- 
ing  at  Dawson.  S)me  are  disapiH>inted.  **  This  is  not  as 
big  as  Skagway,"  they  say.  The  old-timer  (we  are  all 
old-timers  now)  is  lost.  The  mere  recognition  of  a  face 
seen  last  winter  is  now  excuse  for  a  friendly  ninl  and  a 
**  How-de-di»?"  The  crowd  is  good-natured,  elbowing 
and  slowly  tramping  back  and  forth. 

It  was  a  sight  just  to  walk  along  the  water-front  and 
see  the  people,  how  they  lived.  Some  sjept  in  tents  ttn 
their  scows,  one  stumbled  over  others  on  the  ground 
under  robes  or  blankets. 

Outlits  of  all  descriptions  were  placarded  **  for  sale," 
and  these  Were  surrounded  by  representatives  of  eat- 
ing-places buying  provisions,  or  t)ld- timers  buying  un- 
derwear and  tobacctx  Tinned  gmxls,  butter,  milk,  fresh 
potatoes  were  eagerly  asked  for. 

The  first  to  get  in  with  provisit>ns  made  small  fort- 
unes, for  by  gofxi  -  luck  they  brought  the  very  things 
that  would  sell  best.  The  first  case  of  thirty  dozen  eggs 
brought  $300.  Soon  the  market  was  better  supplied, 
and  eggs  fell  to  $150  a  case,  and  in  two  weeks  came 
down  to  $3  a  dozen;  milk,  §1  a  can;  tinned  mutton, 
$2.50  a  pound;  oranges,  ai)f)les,  and  lemons,  $1  each; 
potatoes  brought  50  cents  a  i>ound ;  a  watermelon,  $25. 
Regular  market-stands  were  opened  f<»r  the  sale  of  veg- 
etables of  all  kinds,  and  the  water-front  KH)ked  like  a 
row  of  booths  at  a  fair. 

377 


THE    KLONDIKi:    STAMIM:I)K 

Every  conceival)lc  thiiij^  was  displayeil  for  sale — cl(>th- 
ing,  furs,  moccasins,  hats  and  sh(»cs,  groceries,  meal,  jew- 
elry. There  were  hardware  and  thoroughly  e(iui[)ped 
drug  and  dry-goods  stores.     Here  is  one  of  the  signs  :  - 

DRUGS    DRlCiS 

Rubber  boots,  Shoes.  Etc. 

Bacon,  flour,  rolled  oats.  rice,  suj^ar.  potatoes, 

onions,  tea  and  cotlee,  fruits, 

corn  meal,  jjerman  s»ausagc. 

Dt^     Dogs 

In  the  brief  space  of  a  few  days  there  seemed  to  be 
nothing  that  could  not  be  purchased  in  Dawson,  from 
fresh  grapes  to  an  opera-glass,  from  a  safety  -  pin  to  an 
ice-cream  freezer. 

A  sack  of  flour  actually  sold  on  the  water-front  for$,?, 
less  than  cost,  the  owners  being  disgusted  anil  selling 
out  to  leave  the  country.  There  was  no  fixed  price.  A 
few  men  in  town  could  afford  to  pay  the  high  prices 
asked  at  first  for  everything  ;  but  we  of  the  rank  and 
file,  of  varying  degrees  of  '*  bustedness,"  went  without 
until  prices  came  d*>wn. 

When  meals  dropped  to  $2.50,  what  a  treat  it  was! — no 
longer  obliged  to  stand  up  before  a  rough  l>oard,  nor 
to  live  on  "home-made"  flapjacks,  beans,  and  bacon,  un- 
til, as  one  man  expressed  it,  he  was  "ashamed  to  look  a 
hog  in  the  face."  Instead,  we  sat  down  at  tables  cov- 
ered with  clean  linen.  What  a  feast,  the  fresh  vege- 
tables and  the  curried  mutton  !  They  have  tried  to 
tell  us  that  when  a  man  left  this  country  he  didn't  feel 
he  had  a  s<piare  meal  witht)Ut  bacon  and  beans.  The 
man  was  only  jokifig.  We  could  imderstand  n«»w  how 
Pat   Reagan   felt   when   describing   an   outfit    which   a 

378  . 


THE    ICE-CRKAM    IirSINKSS 

Dutchman  lost  in  Fivc-Finj^ers  the  year  Pat  ramc  in. 
"It  was  a  foine  outtit,"  said  Pat.  "  He  hail  t\vt»  \vh<>le 
cases  of  condensed  milk." 

Two  jKipular  younjj  lathes  were  set  up  in  the  ice-cream 
business  by  a  certain  youii)^  man  a!M>ut  town.  A  lar^e 
stot^k  of  condensed  cream  and  $100  worth  of  ice  were 
provided  (ice  was  as  expensive  as  anythinjjj  else,  on  ac- 
count of  having  to  be  handled  by  men  at  $1  an  hour). 


A'    0<>^.     ^ 


f^,      .J**-       .      '■iiit-*^^''*" 


THE   WATER-FRONT 


A  few  days  later  the  young  man  called  around  to  ask 
how  business  was  getting  on.  *'()h,"  they  replietl, 
"we're  doing  just  splendid  ;  we  have  sold  $45  worth  of 
ice-cream,  but  we'll  have  to  have  a  little  more  ice." 

The  Ix^st  restaurant  at  this  time  was  the  "Arcade,"  a 
rough  frame  of  scantling  twenty  feet  wide  and  fifty  feet 
deep  covered  with  blue  drilling,  with  a  tloor  and  two 
windows  in  front.  At  the  right,  as  one  entered,  was  the 
usual  little  counter  with  the  gojd-seales,  lK*hind  which 
sat  the  proprietress,  with  a  few  shelves  behind  her  on 

379 


THE    KLOXDIKIC    STA  M  PK  I)  K 

which  were  the  tins  and  stuff  that  constituted  the  stock 
in  trade  for  that  day.  The  back  was  curtained  off  for 
the  kitchen,  and  alon^  each  wall  in  the  front  were  little 
board  tables  seating  four,  with  st«H)ls.  The  waiters  here 
were  attired  in  regulation  short  black  coats,  and  car- 
ried towels  on  their  arms  in  professional  style.  The  bill 
of  fare  was  somewhat  variable.  The  waiter  would  ap- 
proach, throw  his  gaze  at  the  ceiling,  and  call  off:  **  Ham- 
burger, beefsteak  —  no,  no,  we're  out  of  beefsteak,  but 
we've  got  some  nice  sausages.  Will  you  have  some 
sausage  and  a  little  Hamburger  on  the  side?"  The 
waiter  was  so  tt  la  moiic  that  one  instinctivelv  felt  for  a 
tip  until  one  remembered  that  it  was  Dawson,  and  that 
a  man  making  $7  a  day  and  b<->ard  would  probably  scorn 
anything  less  than  a  nugget. 

As  six)n  as  the  new-comers  had  taken  a  hujk  at  Daw- 
son they  began  to  spread  out  over  the  country  prospect- 
ing, stampeding  new  creeks,  l«M.king  at  the  mines,  or 
hunting  for  "jobs."  In  this  last  particular  they  met 
with  disappointment.  Thousands  of  men  came  in  ex- 
pecting to  find  work  at  wages.  There  was  plenty  to  tlo 
for  the  man  of  resource,  who  could  make  his  (»wn  job. 
The  camp  was,  as  it  will  be  for  some  time  to  come,  large- 
ly a  prospectors*  camp. 

Many,  after  a  few  days  or  a  few  weeks,  condemned 
the  country  off-hand,  whereas  r..r  knew  that  six  months 
or  a  year  was  required  to  fully  ct»mprehend  the  "genius'* 
of  Klondike. 

As  an  instance  of  what  many  were  expecting,  an  oKl 
man — I  should  judge  him  to  have  iK'en  sixty  years  t)ld — 
came  in  to  where  I  was  working  on  a  large  map  in  the 
Mining  Exchange,  and  judging  from  that  that  I  might 
have  some  acquaintance  with  the  country,  he  began  to 
ask  me   if  I  knew  of  anv  "bars"  in  the  neighborhood 


DISAPPOINTED    MKN 

where  he  could  work  out  enouj;h  jjold  t<^  get  out  of  the 
country.  He  wanteil  to  p>  over  to  Irnhan  River,  of 
which  he  had  a|>|)arently  read  something;;  but  he  did 
not  know  that  he  was  not  physically  strong  enough  to 
carry  more  provisions  than  would  take  him  there  and 
back,  much  less  slop  and  work.  He  had  not  a  cent  of 
money,  and  only  twenty  pounds  of  grub,  but,  as  he  said 


OCTFITS  roK   SAI.B 


he  had  a  shovel,  I  advised  him,  as  he  was  one  of  the  first 
of  the  new-comers,  to  proceed  at  once  to  Eldorado  and 
get  a  job  shovelling-in  at  $1.50  an  hour.  Then,  when  he 
had  a  little  money,  he  might  think  of  prospecting.  That 
man,  or  any  man  fixed  as  he  was,  might  stake  the  richest 
claim  in  Klondike  and  not  l>e  able  tt>  get  the  gold  out, 
or  even  to  know  it  was  there.  How  many  there  were 
who  certainly  went  away  cursing  the  country,  cursing 

'   J8i  ■ 


THE    KLONDIKE   STAMPEDE 

those  who  persisted  against  cviMciue  in  calling  it  a 
"poor  man's  country"! 

Among  the  thn >ng  there  was  none  who  interested  me 
more  than  a  tall  Hgure  I  used  to  see  from  day  to  day. 
He  wore  a  pair  of  deer-skin  pants  fringed  on  the  outer 
seam,  a  loose  blue-Hannel  shirt,  belted  in,  and  a  wide- 
brimmed  gray  hat,  from  beneath  which  locks  as  st)ft  as 
a  girl's  straggled  to  his  shouhlers.  There  was  a  look  al- 
most poetic  in  the  gentle  blue  eyes  of  this  picturesque 
individual.  His  whole  air,  indeed,  suggested,  as  he 
doubtless  intended  it  should,  a  r»)mantic  type  of  "cow- 
boy.** I  was  sitting  in  the  tent  of  a  Seattle  mining  bro- 
ker; the  day  was  hot  and  sweltering.  This  man,  stroll- 
ing  along  the  street  as  we  had  seen  him  for  the  past 
few  days,  approached  the  open  dm^r,  and,  leaning  in  the 
welcome  shade  against  the  d(X)r-pi:)st,  l>egan  talking  to 
Mr.  Hanaon.  The  conversation  proceeded  f<»r  a  while, 
touching  matters  of  general  interest.  At  length,  and 
there  was  a  tone  of  sadness  in  his  voice,  he  looked  s<|uare- 
Iv  in  Mr.  Hannon's  eves  as  he  said.  **  You  don't  remember 
me?**  **  No,  I  can't  say  that  I  do."  replied  Mr.  Hannon. 
"Why,  don*t  you  know  me?  I'm  the  barber,  across 
from  your  place  in  Seattle."  And  two  friends,  who  had 
parted  eight  months  before  in  Seattle,  wrung  hands  in 
silence  while  a  tear  trickled  down  the  cheek  of  each. 

But,seriously,if  it  were  not  for  |>ersonslike  this,  who  for 
the  past  year  have  cultivated  a  "frontier  "air.  there  wouUl 
be  little  in  Dawsv)n  to  suggest  the  frontier  town.  Such 
as  these  simply  amuse  the  old  plainsman,  wh«>  wore  his 
hair  long  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago,  because  it  was  con- 
sidered only  fair  to  offer  the  Indian  an  acceptable  scalp. 

Bewildering  as  was  the  crowd  {touring  in  from  above, 
hardly  less  so  were  the  preparations  for  supplying  the 
Yukon  by  wav  of  St.  Michael.     Figures  alone  can  give 

3«2 


ENORMOUS   HUSIXKSS  AT  ST.  MICIIAKL 

an  idea  of  the  ma«^niliule  of  the  l)iisiness,  f(»r  the  ihsplay 
was  t»f  a  (litfereiU  sort.  Where  last  year  two  ocean  ves- 
sels met  at  St.  Michael  the  rtve  steamers  that  supplietl 
Dawson,  more  than  twenty  ocean  steamers  were  headed 
for  St.  Michael,  and  forty-seven  river  steamers,  some  t>f 
twice  the  tonnaije  of  the  hirj^est  previously  on  the  river, 
and  equalling  in  etpiipment  and  passenger  accommotla- 
tions  the  l)est  Ohio  and  Mississippi  river  packets,  were 
either  on  the  st<Kks  at  Seattle  or  in  sections  on  the 
deck  of  steamers  for  putting  tojjether  at  Dutch  Ilarlnjr 
and  St.  Michael,  or  were  alreadv  at  St.  Michael  and  with- 
in  the  Yukon,  awaiting  the  breakinp^-up  of  the  river. 
Never  before  was  such  activity  seen  on  the  West  Coast. 
At  one  ship -yard  (Moran's)  in  Seattle  there  were,  at 
one  time,  fourteen  river  steamers  ortlered  by  new  com- 
jianies.  Every  t»cean-^oin^  steam-vessel  not  already  in 
the  Ska^way  service,  even  from  the  '*lH»ne  yards"  t>f 
St»attle  and  San  Francisco,  was  bouy^ht  or  chartered  by 
companies  of  every  dejjree  of  reliability.  Si.x  large 
steamers  came  around  the  Horn,  Hve  beinjj  Red  Star 
and  American  transatlantic  liners.  Xor  are  vessels  that 
sailed  from  New  York  durinij  the  winter  with  passen- 
gers direct  for  St.  Michael  included  in  this  count,  but 
only  the  vessels  of  companies  orjjanized  for  a  perma- 
nent business  in  the  Yukon.  The  two  oltl  companies 
advertised  that  they  had  more  than  doubled  their  pre- 
vious etiuipment  of  river  and  txx'an  vessels.  Besides, 
there  were  at  St.  Michael  numl)ers  of  prt>sj)ectinjj  par- 
ties, each  with  a  small  steamer  or  motor-launch  bound 
mostlv  for  the  headwaters  of  the  Kovukuk  River,  thirtv 
of  which  reached  their  destination.  And  if  it  had  been 
any  but  a  **  Klondike"  year,  the  stam|>ede  to  Kotzebue 
Sound,  via  St.  Michael,  chartering;  every  available  steam 
and  sailing  vessel  on  the  Pacific  c«>ast  and  landing  2000 


THE    KLOXDIKE    STAMPEDE 

miners  at  the  scene  of   an  alley^ed    diseovery  <>f   j;<>ld, 
would  have  commanded  universal  attention. 

The  Canadian  Minister  of  the  Interior,  the  Honorable 
Clifford  Sifton,  j;ranted  to  a  firm  of  contractors,  Messrs. 
Mackenzie  &  Mann,  provisional  rijjht  to  construct  a  rail- 
road from  the  Stikeen  River  to  Teslin  Lake,  in  return 
for  immense  grants  of  gold-l)earinj:j  land  in  the  Klon- 
dike. Surveys  were  made  and  material  delivered  at  the 
terminus  of  the  proposed  road,  and  tickets  were  soUl  in 
the  principal  cities  of  Euro{>e  and  the  United  States  for 
through  passaji^e  to  Dawson!  In  all,  some  thousands  of 
unfortunate  dupes  ascended  the  Stikeen  River,  to  Hnd 
no  railroad  in  existence,  and  150  miles  of  horse  trail  on 
which  there  was  insufhcient  forage  for  horses.  On  this, 
the  most  practicable  of  the  *' all-Canadian  "  routes  into 
the  Yukon,  a  fleet  of  steamers  were  to  ply  on  the  Stikeen 
River,  and  a  small  steamer,  the  Aiij^/iiiu,  was  already 
built  on  Lake  Teslin  to  ply  between  the  lake  and  Daw- 
son. Before  the  agreement  with  Mackenzie  cV  Mann 
was  ratitied  by  Parliament,  ht>wever,  a  committee  of 
miners,  sent  out  from  Dawson  in  the  fall  of  1S97  to  pro- 
test against  the  royalty  tax,  discovered  and  |iointed  out 
to  Parliament  the  true  inwardness  of  the  proiH)sed  fran- 
chise, the  profits  on  which  had  already  l>een  figured  out 
as  $34,ooo,cx>o,  and,  as  a  result  of  the  Hood  of  light  they 
let  in  upon  Parliament  concerning  the  Yukon,  the  bill 
was  killed.* 

*  3,75o.cxx>  acres  of  mineral  land  in  Klondike  were  to  bo  granted 
to  the  conirartors.  whereas  the  whole  area  alKnit  Dawson  tiiat 
had  heevx  prc>sperte<l  contained  only  864.000  acres.  They  were  to 
be  allowed  to  nin  their  hnes  alunjj;  </o  miles  of  creeks,  whereas 
Bonan/a  and  Kldorado  are  only  thirty-one  miles  lonj; ;  the  land 
was  to  be  held  in  fee  simple,  instead  of  by  annual  lease  ;  and  royal- 
lies  on  gold  were  to  l>e  only  one  per  cent.,  instead  of  ten  per  cent., 
which  were  required  of  all  others.  In  return  for  which  they  were 
to  build  a  narrow-gauge  railroad,  from  a  terminus  only  twenty-six 

:       S84        .       . 


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RAILWAY    OVKR    W  H  I  T  K    PASS 

On  the  15th  of  June  the  first  mile  of  a  narrow-gau^e 
railroad  over  White  Pass  was  laid  in  Ska^uay.  The 
general  name  of  "White  Pass  and  Yukon  Route"  in- 
cluded three  distinct  charters.  The  l*acifjc  and  Arctic 
Railway  and  Xavijjation  Company  operate  to  the  sum- 
mit; the  British  Ci>lumbia  Yukon  Railway  Company 
is  to  ojHjrate  from  there  across  British  Columbia; 
while  the  British -Yukon  Mininuf,  Trading;,  antl  Trans- 
portation C«>mpany  will  build  to  Dawson.  By  Novem- 
ber 15,  1S99,  the  twenty  miles  to  the  summit  was  opened 
for  traffic;  the  fare  for  a  passenjjer  was  $5,  or  25  cents 
a  mile,  making  it  probably  the  most  expensive  railroad 
travel  in  the  W(»rld. 

At  Bennett  a  tleet  of  small  steamers,  the  largest  ninety 
feet  in  length,  was  built  or  put  together  for  navigating 
the  river  and  lakes  to  Dawson. 

A  few  months  had  turned  Skagway  into  a  city  with 
brcxid,  graded  streets  and  sidewalks,  lighted  by  1200  six- 
teen-candle-power  incandescent  lights  and  titty  street 
arc-lights,  and  with  one  of  the  finest  water  supplies  in 
the  world,  bri»ught  in  pipes  from  a  high  mountain  lake. 
It  had  a  daily  newspaper,  and  claimed  to  be  the  largest 
city  in  Alaskx  It  was  governed  by  a  civil  council  with- 
out tax  -  levying  power,  and  preserved  order  with  one 
United  States  marshal. 

Probably  no  fewer  than  60,000  persons  reached  Seattle 
and  neighboring  cities  prepared  to  bear  down  upon  Daw- 
son,*   The  war  with  Sj^ain  intervened,  and  in  three  weeks 

mHes  nearer  Dawson  than  Skagvvav —  1 50  miles  of  tracks,  useless  for 
seven  months  of  the  year— with  ri^ht  tocharye  exorhiiant  toUs.an(l 
with  a  monoiM)ly  of  railway  inj^rcss  to  the  Yukon  for  five  years.  It 
wasa  grab ol^ nearly  everyihinj^  worth  havinj^  in  the  Yukon  district. 
*  A  writer  in  the  Rti'iru*  of  Kti-ifics  estimates  that  at  this  Hate 
not  fewer  than  100.000  jicrsons  had  started  from  «lilfercnt  p.irls 
of  the  world  ft>r  Klondike. 

3B  385 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  Klondike  boom  was  flat.  But  probably  40,000  reached 
the -headwaters  of  the  Yukon.  The  [>olice  at  Tai^ish  re- 
ported that  up  to  the  iSth  of  June,  7J00  lM)ats,  avera^inv: 
about  five  |)ersons  each,  had  passed.  The  number  who 
reached  Dawst>n  is  im|x>ssible  to  determine.  Four  to  five 
thousand  stoppeil  at  Stewart  to  prospect  that  river,  and 
thousands,  after  remaininc:  a  few  days  or  weeks  in  Daw- 
son Jeft  for  the  camps  in  American  territt^ry  or  for  home. 
A  police  census  of  the  population  encamped  on  tiie  Daw- 
son flat  in  midsummer  made  the  number  17,000  to  iS.ooo. 
Four  to  five  thousand  people  were  in  the  mines,  or  in  a 
radius  of  fifty  miles,  pros|K'ctin^. 

Besides  those  who  took  the  direct  route  to  Dawson, 
probably  2000  started  in  by  way  of  Eilmonton.  ( >f  tlu)se 
who  trietl  the  Peace- I*elly-ri vers  route  fri)m  there  (the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  route  of  forty  years  aj^o),  not 
one,  so  far  as  is  known,  reached  the  Yukon,  and  the  un- 
fortunate victims  of  their  own  folly  and  the  ijreed  «»f 
Edmonton  merchants  met  with  suffcrinj^s  untold,  the 
way  l)eing  marked  with  abandoned  outfits,  dead  h«»rses, 
and  dead  ami  dyinjj  men.  Those  who  tot)k  the  Innjrer, 
Mackenzie- porcupine -rivers  route,  fared  not  much  bet- 
ter; a  miserable  few  reached  the  Porcupine,  while  a 
number  that  one  could  count  on  the  finj^ers  <)f  a  hand 
reached  Dawson  at  the  end  of  summer,  but  only  by  leav- 
ing their  outfits  beyond  McDou^alls  Pass.  The  un- 
fortunate ones  who  remained  with  their  outfits  were 
able  to  pnK^eed  either  forward  or  backward  at  best  but  a 
few  miles  a  day.  It  is  perha{)s  no  e.\a^;^erati«»n  to  say 
that  this  pitiable  endeavor  to  reach  Klondike  by  an  all- 
Canadian  route  will  cost  the  lives,  directlv  and  indirect- 
ly,  from  exposure  and  dist^ase,  of  500  persons.  This  is 
the  price  that  the  Canadian  jjovernment  pays  for  an 
all-Canadian  route,  and  for  the  development  of  the  suj>- 

386    . 


FIRST  STEAMER   FROM   ST.  MICHAEL 

posed  resources  of  the  Mackenzie  River  valley.  With  a 
full  knowledjTfe  <»f  the  situation. obiainetl  throuj^h  its  own 
surveyf)rs,  it  should  have  sounded  a  note  of  warninjj:,  in- 
stead of  j^ivin^  it  pid)lic  approval,  as  it  tlid  by  i»thcial 
maps  and  rep*)rts. 

Nearly  two  thousand  miners  ascended  the  Copper 
River,  led  by  reports  of  j:jold  an<I  copper  on  the  head- 
waters of  this  dani^enius  and  dirHcult  river.  Practically 
nothing  was  accomplished,  an»l  many  lost  their  lives 
crossing  the  treacherous  VaMez  (i lacier.  Hy  this  river, 
however,  will  run,  sometime  in  the  near  future,  an  all- 
American  railway  to  the  gold  fields  of  the  Yukt>n,  strik- 
ing that  river  probably  at  Eagle  City. 

The  Yukon  had  been  open  a  ruonth  lacking  a  few  hours 
and  there  was  no  steamer  yet  from  l)el«»w.  Speculation 
as  to  which  would  arrive  rtrst  favored  the  lulla  and 
the  Wiarc^  which  had  but  to  go  from  Circle  City  to  Fort 
Yukon  to  load.  At  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
8th  of  June  the  cry  **  Steaml)oat  !**  was  raised  for  the 
fiftieth  time  and  passed  along  the  street,  and  as  usual 
all  hands  rushed  to  the  water-front  and  Un^ketl.  A  tiny 
speck  and  smoke  could  l>e  faintly  seen  two  miles  below; 
odds  favored  its  l)eing  the  /*<7//7,  from  its  having  but 
one  smoke-stack,  whereas  the  \\\arc  has  two.  The  ar- 
rival of  the  first  steamer  in  the  spring  at  the  starved- 
out  camps  has  been  always  hailetl  with  the  same  de- 
light as  would  a  column  coming  to  the  relief  of  a  l>elca- 
guered  garris<.>n.  It  was  an  event  in  which  not  only 
every  miner  was  exjK*cted  to  turn  out  and  take  part  by 
waving  his  hat  and  cheering,  but  as  the  tlerp  whi^itle  of 
the  incoming  I>oat  was  bl»»wn  every  Malamut  dog  liftt-il 
its  voice  in  a  <loleful  wail.  This  wad  Ugan.  we  were 
told,  at  the  first  blast  of  the  whiNi!*-.  and  the  Ningular 
thing  is  that  the  leader  strut  k  iht*  c\;r«  t  piti  h.  high  or 

5«7 


THE   KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

low,  of  the  steamboat.  Then  in  waves  the  moan  arose, 
breaking  out  in  renewed  and  louder  howls,  each  suc- 
ceedinjj  wave  louder  than  the  former,  until  a  volume  of 
dissonance  had  risen  over  the  whole  camp,  from  a  thou- 
sand doj;s'  throats,  that  drowned  the  very  whistle,  ami 
was  prolonged  for  several  minutes  afterwards.  We  had 
heard  upon  previous  i>ccasions  this  dismal  concert,  gen- 
erally at  the  time  one  wanted  to  sleep,  and  made  doubly 
irritating  by  the  deep  barkings  of  hundreds  of  big  "  out- 
side" dogs,  who,  unlike  their  "inside "relatives, did  not, 
when  once  aroused,  know  when  to  quit. 

Now,  however,  the  cravings  and  yearnings  of  the  stom- 
ach having  been  appeased  by  the  abundance  brought  in 
from  up  river,  there  was  but  little  excitement  except 
among  the  saUH)n -keepers,  who  were,  all  but  one,  out  of 
whiskey  ;  while  the  dogs,  being  used  to  the  daily  blasts 
of  several  saw-mills,  hardly  so  much  as  pricked  up  their 
ears.  When  the  steamer  drew  into  the  wharf  she  provetl 
to  be  the  May  ll'is/^  a  stranded  boat  that  wintered  near 
the  Tanana  River.  She  reported  the  n<v/n*  and  the 
Bf/Za  high  and  dry  on  the  bank  at  Circle  City,  where  the 
ice  had  shoved  them.  Another  stranded  N)at,  the  Scitf/U 
No.  /,  came  in  s<K)n  after,  followed  by  the  Alaska  Com- 
mercial Company's  boat  I'ittoria  ;  and  on  the  30th  the 
JA-rti'///,  with  the  ill-fated  Eliza  Afidtrson  party,  arrived 
at  their  destination  after  just  one  year  of  misfortune  and 
hardships.  Finally  the  Btila  and  the  IWart'  arrived,  but 
not  a  word  from  St.  Michael  until  the  arrival  of  the 
llcaly  on  the  8th  t)f  July.  After  that  it  occupied  the 
staff  of  two  newspapers  to  keep  track  of  the  doings  on 
the  water-front.  The  two  old  companies  were  clearly 
unmatched  as  to  equipment,  but  there  were  at  least  six 
or  seven  new  ones  firmly  established  on  the  river,  with 
warehouses  at  Dawson  and  other  points,  and  a  large  fleet 

3^ 


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M    FROM   THR   MOrTH    OF  THE   KLONDIKE 


PANORAMIC   VIRW    OF    DAWSOV    TAKRN    FROM    THR    MOfTH    OF   THE    KLONniKR    RIVER. 


»    • 


..•<yv''"  ■'*«*"" 


:^Sr^-^^ 


DAWSOV.  TAKEN    FROM   THE   MOITH    OF  THE  KLON-DIKE    RIVER.     Simmfr.  i8 


FIRST   STEAMER   FROM   THE    LAKES 

of  excellent  steamb<^ats.  Ore  of  the  strunsj^est  of  the 
new  companies,  the  Empire  Line  (a  connection  of  tiie 
American  and  Red  Star  transatlantic  lines),  was  crippled 
by  the  withdrawal  of  their  ocean  vessels  as  «;(jvernnu'nl 
transports  to  the  Philippines  ;  while  a  number  t»f  river 
steamers,  estimated  by  one  authority  at  twenty,  belnnj^- 
ing  to  this  and  other  companies,  were  lost  or  delayed  on 
the  ocean  voyage  from  Seattle  and  from  Dutch  Ilarl)or, 
so  that  their  passeni;ers,  who  had  f)aid  tor  transportation 
to  Dawsc^n,  were  put  to  much  delay  and  trouble  at  St. 
Michael.  Their  managers  for  the  most  part  were  able 
to  purchase  steamers  outright  after  the  first  trip  \\[\  or 
else  their  own  arrived  in  time  to  start  them  for  Dawson 
before  navigation  closed. 

Notwithstanding  these  delays,  by  September  ist  (ac- 
cording to  the  figures  given  at  the  customs  othce  at 
Dawson)  fifty-six  steaml)oats  delivered  cargoes  of  freight 
and  passengers.  The  amount  of  provisions  landed  was 
7540  tons,  of  which  about  half  was  brought  up  l)y  the 
two  old  companies,  the  tonnage  of  the  Alaska  Commer- 
cial Company  being  the  largest  on  the  river.  The  North 
American  Transp<irtation  and  Trading  Company,  in  ad- 
dition to  their  own  tx)ats,  chartered  a  number  of  steamers, 
or  bought  them  outright,  including  their  cargoes.  Hy 
the  date  alx>ve  mentioned  nearly  twenty  steamers  were 
on  their  way  from  St,  Michael,  most  of  which  reached 
Dawson.  * 

On  the  14th  of  June  a  tiny  whistle  was  heard  in  the 
river  above  town,  and  a  diminutive  steamer  came  pufting 
down  to  the  wharf.  She  was  35  feet  long  and  8  feet 
wide,  the  BiUiH^ham  by  name,  and  came  under  her  own 
steam  all  the  way  from  Bennett,  successfully  running 
both  thc^  Canyon  and  White  Horse  rapids.  She  at- 
tracted much  attention  as   being  the  first  steamer  to 

389 


THE   KLOXDIKH    STAMIMCDE 

arrive  from  up  river.  It  was  jijenerally  supp<»seil  that 
she  was  the  first  steamer  that  ever  made  the  irii>.  Hut 
in  the  sprinjj^  of  1895  a  small  propeller  named  the  W'tti/i- 
fftizii,  27  feet  lonj^,  was  hoistetl  over  Chilk<K)t  by  Frank 
Atkins  and  E.  L.  Hushnell.  of  l*ortlan<l,  Orej^on,  shot  the 
rapids,  and  reached  Fort  Cudahy,  where  the  hull  now 
lies. 

Within  the  next  few  days  eij^ht  more  steamers  reached 
Dawson  from  the  lakes.  Two  others,  the  Kti/iiinaziH> 
and  ih*:  Jost'p/t  C/osstU^wcrt:  wrecked. one  on  Thirty-Mile 
River,  the  other  in  the  Canyon.  The  L'p[xrr  Yukon  had 
never  been  previously  a>cended  by  a  steamer  abtive  Ft>rt 
Selkirk,  and  the  e.\jK'riment  of  trans|)ortation  out  that 
way  was  watched  with  interest.  On  the  23d  »>f  June  the 
r7rA»r/(ff  departed  for  Rink  Rapids,  where  350  horses  were 
waitin<r  to  carry  passenjjers  out  over  the  Dalton  trail. 
The  fare  to  Pyramid  Harbor  was  $250.  which  entitled 
each  passenjjer  to  lK)ard,  one  saddle-horse,  and  two  pairs 
of  blankets  as  ba:.jy:aj^e.  The  steamer  also  carried  Cana- 
dian mail  and  light  e.xpress.  The  e.\f)erimeni  was  not 
repeated,  as  by  the  time  the  I'u/orta  returned  to  Dawson 
it  had  been  demonstrated  that  a  steamer  with  the  aid  of 
a  windlass  could  a.scend  Five-Finger  Rapids,  and,  by  con- 
necting with  small  steamers  above  the  Canyon,  establi>h 
an  easier  and  quicker  route.  The  Flora  and  the  Sora 
(each  80X16  feet),  of  the  Bennett  Lake  and  Klondike 
Navigation  Company,  made  connection  at  White  Horse 
with  their  steamer  Ora.  The  fare  from  Dawson  to  Ben- 
nett was  $175,  and  from  Bennett  to  Dawson  $75.  with 
board,  but  passengers  were  required  to  furnish  their  own 
bedding.  The  time  was  five  to  si.x  days  up  to  White 
Horse;  to  Bennett,  seven.  The  W'illii'  Irzitit^  (90  feet), 
the  Cot/t/itrti {^o  feet) and  the  Aui^tiau  (Canadian  Devel- 
opment Company)  carried  jiassengers  to  White  Horse. 

390 


STEAMBOAT    FARES 

The  journey  out  to  Seattle  was  made  in  thirteen  days, 
while,  by  a  series  of  fortuitt>us  connections,  the  trip 
from  Xew  V<»rk  to  Dawson  was  made  by  one  Dartlett, 
a  packer,  in  thirteen  and  a  half  days,  the  schedule  being 
as  ft>lK)ws:  New  York  to  Seattle,  five  days;  Seattle  to 
Skajjway, three  and  a  half  days;  Skaijway  to  Bennett, 
one  day;  Bennett  to  Dawson,  four  days.     About   1500 


DF.PAm'RE  OP  STEAMKR  FOR   ST.  Mirif  \F.L 


persons  went  out  this  way.  As  soon  as  the  up-river 
route  was  proven  a  success,  several  steamers  from  St. 
Michael  were  placed  in  the  service.  The  fare  remained 
about  the  same  until  Septemlx^r  14th,  when  the  CUira 
made  a  rate  of  $95  to  Bennett,  meals  $1  each  and  berths 
free. 

The  May  UW/,  the  first  steamer  to  start  for  Ik'Iow, 
left  on  June  i8th,  with  68  passengers  at  $*ioo  each,  to  St. 

39« 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Michael  only.  To  meet  the  expected  rush  for  passage 
on  first  steamers  out,  the  North  American  Transpor- 
tation and  Trading  Company  made  a  rate  of  $300  to 
Seattle  (an  increase  of  $125  over  last  year),  and  passen- 
gers were  required  to  send  with  them,  by  express,  at 
least  §1000  in  gold-dust.  Their  steamer  Hamilton  K 1 1 
on  the  2y\  of  June  with  17S  passengers,  ami  the  l/Vr/n, 
on  the  24th,  with  about  40  passengers  and  $1,500,000  in 
gold-dust.  The  Alaska  Commercial  Com{)any  charged 
for  their  first  trip  $250  for  first-class,  antl  $200  for  sec- 
ond (according  to  accommodations  on  the  ocean  vessel) ; 
and  00  the  28th  the  lyclla  left  with  150  passengers  and 
§1,000,000  in  gold.  The  Seattle  Xo.  i  cut  to  §150  to 
Seattle,  and  left  on  the  30th  with  146  passengers.  The 
North  American  Transportation  and  Trading  Company 
made  a  §100  second-class  rate  on  100  passengers;  but 
the  cost  of  a  ticket  to  Seattle  remained  during  the  sea- 
son at  ab*>ut  $200  on  the  best  boats.  Passage  included 
meals  and  berth  in  state-room  on  l>oth  river  and  ocean 
steamer.  The  record  time  from  St.  Michael  to  Daws<»n 
was  twelve  and  a  half  days,  held  by  the  North  American 
Transportation  and  Trading  Company's  boat  Joltn  titil- 
n/r/,  her  round  trip  consuming  nineteen  and  a  half  days. 
Upon  the  arrival  of  steamers  from  St.  Michael,  ft>od 
and  supplies  of  all  kinds  were  more  [)lentiful,  but 
when  lists  were  issued  by  the  companies  prices  were 
somewhat  advanced,  flour  being  $8  per  sack.  Several 
new  restaurants  were  opened,  st>nie  of  which  woulil  have 
been  a  credit  to  a  city  in  civilization,  t>oth  in  the  variety 
of  food  offered  and  in  the  manner  of  its  service.  The 
**  Fairview  Hotel,"  a  three-story  frame  building,  oi>ened 
by  Alec  McD<^»nald  and  Miss  Mulrooncy,  was  the  hand- 
somest building  in  town.  It  was  intended,  when  dark- 
ness and  cold  made  it  necessary,  several  months  later, 

392 


A   **S\VKLL-    IIUTKI. 

to  li|;ht  it  by  electricity  an  J  heat  it  with  hot  air.  Al- 
thouv;li  the  inevitable  bar  «K:ciipieil  the  front,  the  Fair- 
view  coiiKl  lay  claim  to  beinj;  a  respectable  hotel,  as  there 
was  a  siile  entrance  for  hulies,  who  might  not  like  to 
pass  through  the  bar-rof>m,  and  it  iH)ssesse(l  a  bath- 
room. One  of  the  best  i/ii/s  was  employeil,  and  meals 
were  serveil  on  linen -covered  tables,  with  silver  and 
china.  The  price  of  a  meal — lonsidered  by  .some  the 
best  in  Dawson — was  $2.  B4>ard,  with  a  loxu-foot 
riH>m,  was$i»5  to  $250  a  moTith,  according  to  location, 
and  for  transients  §6.50  a  day.  I^)ard  without  rcH>m 
was  at  first  §25  a  week,  but  was  afterwards  raised  to  $^5 
a  week. 

The  **  Regina  Cafe,**  alongside  the  North  American 
Transportation  antl  Trading  Company's  warehouse  gave, 
in  my  estimatit»n,  the  l)est  meal  in  town.  It  was  in  charge 
of  one  of  the  best  San  Francisco  c/it/s.  The  linen  was 
white  and  neat,  there  were  arm-chairs  of  oak,  and  the 
service  was  of  china  and  silver,  such  as  one  would  find 
in  a  fairly  well-to-do  household  at  home.  }Iere,  l)e>ides 
every  conceivable  variety  of  foinl  that  is  canned,  one 
coidd  order  an  oyster-pattie  or  a  mayonnaise  ilressing ! 
The  price  of  dinner  was  $2.50;  l)reakfast,$i.5o;  or  a  ticket 
entitling  one  to  twenty-one  meals  could  l>e  purchased 
for  $30.  Cigars  and  liquors  here  were  only  25  cents, 
although  elsewhere  the  price  was  50  cents.  At  all  the 
other  restaurants  the  price  of  meals  dropped  first  from 
$2.50  to  $2,  then  to  $1.50,  which  remained  al)out  the 
average  price  for  a  **s<piare"  meal,  although  a**Jap**sold 
a  pretty  good  "staver-off"  for  $1  at  a  lunch-counter. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


HandretLk  of  Milf^  of  Claims — NViM  Siam|H.Mlc> — CuM  Uiulcr  the  Yukon 
— (I<»M  on  ihc  IIill-Tops — Kitklenevs  of  l-ortiiiu- — The  •*ilcan-uji" 
llcgun — lUMian/aCrvvk  iu  Summer — A  C'lcan-u|»i>n  No.  13  FMor.ulo — 
High  Tans  of  CioUl — kichcxt  <irountl  in  Kl<»nilikc — NewcoimrV  (itxnl- 
Fortune — French  and  GoUl  IIiIU — Total  Output — I'.riii^inj;  I>o\»n  the 
(ioh! — Values  of  Kion<like  (JoUl — Ilanks — L'nitiue  l?ank-C'hctk — In»- 
prnvement-s  in  MethiMU  of  Mininj^ — **  King  of  the  Klondike" 


I 


MIK)RTANT  discoveries  of  ^roia  f,,i. 
lowed  those  on  Bonanza,  Hunker^^and 
Bear  creeks.  In  Juno,  1S97,  two  men 
reported  ^old  on  Dominion  Crvck,  a 
large  tributary  of  Indian  River  hav- 
ing its  source  opposite  Hunker  Creek. 
Both  men  claimed  separate  discovery, 
and  the  Gold  Commi»ioner,  being 
unable  to  decide  who  had  the  prior 
right  to  discovery,  allowed  two  dis- 
coveries, which  subsetpiently  proved 
to  be  five  miles  apart,  and  are  known  respectively  as 
"Upper"  and  ** Lower"  Discoveries.  The  j)rospects  were 
excellent,  but  no  work  of  consequence  was  done  until 
winter.  About  Christmas  reports  of  halt-ounce  nuggets 
being  found  resulted  in  a  stam|>ede,  and  everything  on 
the  main  creek,  which  was  larger  than  I>onanza.  was 
staked,  and  staking  continued  on  the  numerous  tribu- 
taries until,  in  July,  1S9S,  there  were  two  hundred  and 
seventy-five  500- foot  claims  on  the  main  creek,  which, 

394 


MORK    RICH    DISCOVKRI  i:S 

atMfcrto  thirty  or  forty  trilnitarics,  rcaclud  the  extraor- 
dinary lenjj;th  of  140  to  150  miles  of  staked  claims,  llr- 
tween  Discoveries  tlie  j^rouiul  proved  very  rich,  and 
single  claims  were  purchased  by  Hhlorado  owners  for  as 
high  as  $40,000. 

In  June,  1S97,  four  men.  two  of  whom  were  nanu-d 
Whitmorc  and  Hunter,  made  an  im|M>rtant  discovery 
atK)Ut  five  or  six  miles  from  the  head  of  another  hirge 
creek  Ivinc  between  Dominion  and  ()nartz  Creek  and 
heading  directly  op|>ositeone  fork  of  (told  Bottom.  The 
creek,  which  was  called  Sulphur  Creek,  was  staked  !>y 
successive  waves  of  stampeders.  During  the  winter  alxait 
a  dozen  holes  were  put  d«^>wn  at  intervals  over  nine  miles 
of  creek,  but  nearly  every  shaft  disclosed  rich  f)ay  and 
demonstrated  the  creek  to  be  comparable  in  richness 
to  Bonanza  Creek.  In  July,  1.S9S,  over  thirty  miles  of 
creek  and  tributaries  were  staked  in  500-foot  claims, 
and  those  in  the  l>est  l«>cations  were  selling  for  from 
$30,000  to  $40,000. 

(Juartz  Creek, although  its  situation  and  history  should 
have  drawn  the  attention  of  stam{)eders  to  it  earlier, 
was  overlooked  until  September  and  October,  1S97, 
when  a  thi)us;ind  men  went  over  the  head  of  Kldorado 
staking  in  succession  everything  in  sight.  In  July,  1S9S, 
alxtut  thirtv-tive  miles  of  creeks  ami  tributaries  were 
stakeil  in  500-foot  claims.  "  Eureka"  Creek,  with  al)out 
thirteen  miles  of  claims  and  g«M»d  prospects;  "Nine- 
mile,"  "Ophir,"  "Big,"  "Wolf,"  and  "(^t.ld  Run"  were 
hKated  in  the  Indian  River  district,  the  last-named 
creek,  with  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  of  claims,  "prov- 
ing up"  rich.  On  B^uianza  everything  in  sight  was 
staked,  even  to  the  tops  of  the  gulches,  until  there  were 
one  hundred  and  eleven  claims  below  and  one  hun- 
dred and   nineteen    alx>ve   Discovery,  and   over   forty 

395 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

"pups,"  or  tributaries  (including:  Eldorado),  with  a  total 
length  of  about  tMghty-Hvc  miles  of  claims. 

Hunker  Creek  was  located  for  eighty-one  claims  be- 
low and  fifty  above  Discovery,  with  eighteen  or  twenty 
"pups,"  including  Gold  Bottom,  f(H»ting  up  about  sixty 
miles  of  claims.  Bear  Creek,  a  very  rich  creek,  but  only 
five  or  si.x  miles  long,  was  all  located.  "All  Clold,"  with 
about  eighty-five  500-foot  claims,  and  more  »>n  tributa- 
ries, was  located,  and  developments  gave  claims  a  mar- 
ket value  of  $5000  for  half-interests.  "Too  Much  (iold." 
with  eight  miles  of  500-foot  claims,  and  "  Leotta,"  with 
five  miles  of  200-foot  claims,  were  also  located.  These 
are  all  tributaries  of  Klondike.  Discoveries  were  re- 
ported on  creeks  entering  the  Yukon  near  Dawson,  but 
it  apparently  did  not  matter  to  the  stampeders  whether 
there  was  gold  in  them  or  not.  They  spent  much  of 
their  time  about  the  saKx>ns  looking  for  "tips"  from 
more  energetic  actual  prospectors,  and  some  by  the  end 
of  winter,  particularly  those  who  purchased  information 
of  unrecorded  claims  from  the  Gold  Commissioner's 
Office,  possessed  from  forty  to  two  hundred  claims  and 
interests  each.  By  the  1st  of  July,  1S9.S,  betwe^-n  nine 
thousand  and  ten  thousand  placer -mining  claims  had 
been  recorded. 

Every  one  of  this  number  was  believed  to  have  great 
value,  and  so  inflamed  did  the  imaginations  of  the 
owners  become  that  claims  on  creeks  in  which  not  a 
pick  had  been  stuck  were  valued  at  thousands  of  dol- 
lars. During  the  winter  large  numbers  of  these  claims 
were  offered  for  sale  outside,  in  the  belief  that  the  pop- 
ular mind  was  so  inflamed  that  anything  to  which  the 
name  **  Klondike"  was  attached  would  sell.  From  the 
old-timers*  point  of  view  the  camp  was  spoiled.  One 
of  them  expressed  the  prevailing  feeling  when  he  said, 

396 


WILD    STAMPEDES 


«t 


Prospecting's  done  away  with.  All  the  prospectinjj: 
tools  a  man  neetls  now  is  an  axe  and  a  lead-pencil." 

Xoihiny:  could  exceed  the  excitement  of  some  of  the 
stampedes  that  took  place  during  the  winter.  An  old 
man  living  Jn  a  cabin  on  the  Yukon  above  Dawson  re- 
|xirted  at  the  recorder's  office  that  he  had  ft)und  gold 
on  **  Rosebud"  Creek  about  fifty  miles  above  Dawson. 
The  news  got  around  to  the  rest  of  the  camp,  i\\u\  all 
who  could  do  so  started.  All  one  night,  by  match  and 
candle  light,  they  measured  and  staked.  It  turned  out 
that  no  gold  whatever  had  been  found  on  the  creek. 
On  February  14th  "Swede"  Creek,  six  miles  from  town, 
was  similarly  stamfK^led.  Two  Swedes  who  had  been 
prospecting  there  came  down  to  record,  and  let  out  the 
news.  It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  a  bright 
moon  was  shining,  and  a  stream  of  people,  numbering 
over  three  hundred,  marched  up  there  and  staked  all 
that  day  and  into  the  night.  Five  men  were  badly 
frozen,  two  having  to  suffer  partial  amputation  of  both 
feet.  It  was,  indee<l.  the  wonder  of  all  who  saw  the 
chcchahkos  starting  out  in  the  dead  of  winter,  often 
dressed  only  in  house  clothes,  some  wearing  even  shoes, 
that  more  were  not  frozen,  but  it  seemed,  as  has  been 
truly  said,  that  "Providence  was  with  the  cluxhahko." 

In  April  a  sensational  discovery  was  reported  by 
two  Swedes  cutting  wood  on  an  island  in  the  Yukon 
opposite  Ensley  Creek,  eighteen  miles  from  Dawson. 
During  the  winter  they  sank  a  shaft  to  a  depth  of  thirty- 
eight  feet  and  found  gold  on  bed-rcK'k.  A  mining  in- 
spector went  up  from  Dawson  and  "  proved  "  the  dis- 
covery, obtaining,  it  is  said,  single  pans  as  high  as  $8. 
The  island  was  located  in  250 -foot  claims  and  named 
**  Monte  Cristo."  Other  islands  below  were  immediately 
staked  and  holes  put  down,  but  the  rise  of  water  in  the 

397 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

river  floo<lecl  their  holes  ami  stopped  work.  Diirinj;  the 
next  summer  the  original  discoverers  of  Monte  Cristo 
panned  out  $300  on  their  dump,  and  sank  another  hole 
thirty-four  feet  and  took  out  Sjoo.  At  tlie  same  time 
several  parties  worked  on  a  Hat  at  the  side  of  the  river, 
sank  eighteen  holes,  and  then  came  down  to  record, 
whereu|H>n  there  was  another  stampede,  one  hundred 
and  eighty  men  going  up  in  one  day.  Soon  after  the 
** Monte  Cristo"  iliscovery  two  holes  were  put  down  in 
the  flat  at  Dawson.  One  night  after  dark  the  town- 
site  was  staked  otT,  but  the  parties  were  not  allowed 
to  record. 

The  discovery  of  gold  in  these  U>cations  was  startling, 
but  not  more  s<^  than  the  finding  of  gold  on  the  "hill- 
to|>s."  Shortly  after  Carmack's  discovery  on  I^>nanza 
Creek,  H.  A.  Ferguson  found  gold  higher  up  the  hill. 
abt)ve  Carmack's  claim,  but  no  one  thought  seriously  of 
hill-side  gold  until  July.  1897.  alm<»st  a  year  later,  when 
Albert  Lancaster,  a  California  miner,  climl>ed  up  the 
west  side  of  Eldorado,  off  Xo.  2,  and  began  digging.  lie 
was  laughed  at  by  the  miners,  but  he  worked  all  win- 
ter, in  plain  sight  of  the  busiest  part  of  the  mines.  He 
recordeil  his  claim,  a  plot  looxioo  feet,  on  August  4, 
1897  —  the  first  **  bench"  or  hill-side  claim  recorded  in 
the  Klondike.  Sk^u  after  Lancaster's  discovery,  one 
William  Dieilrick,  better  known  as  "CarilK)U*'  Billy, 
made  a  similar  discovery  at  the  junction  of  Sk«M>kum 
Ciulch  antl  lionanza  Creek;  and  al)out  the  same  time  a 
man  named  Peters<m  made  a  discovery  on  the  oppi)site 
side  of  the  same  gulch.  Peterson  dug  a  few  feet  into 
the  hill -side  and  took  out  $6000.  Immediately  after 
these  discoveries  the  ground  in  their  ncighborhooil  was 
staked,  not  by  the  old-timers  in  the  Bonanza  Creek,  as 
one  would  think,  but  by  new-comers  and  hangers-t>n 

398 


DISCOVKRY    OF    ^^BEXCII"    MINES 

from  town.  Holes  were  sunk  near  Lancaster,  and  a 
nugget  was  found  weighing  tjver  a  jjound.  and  an()tlier 
worth  $550  at  the  mouth  of  Skookum.  Still  the  miners, 
for  a  reason  hard  to  understand,  could  n«»t  realize  that 
vast  riches  lay  in  plain  sight  along  the  hill -side,  nor 
could  they  understand  the  theory  of  an  old  stream-bed, 
from  which  all  the  gold  in  the  creek-bed  perhaps  orig- 
inally came.      Caribou    Billy,  however,  seems   to  have 


,  .5;?',-^:^*i»ev 


BtNCH"   OR    IIILL-SUtK -CI„\IMS    FRE-M II    HILI.,    IN    ACi;C>r,    IS93 


understood  this,  for  he  kept  examining  the  sides  of  Eldo- 
rado, and  on  the  i6th  of  March,  with  Joe  Staley,  a  new- 
comer from  Dayton,  Ohio,  began  digging  on  the  hill-side 
*)n  the  west  side,  off  No.  16,  at  the  mouth  of  French  Gulch. 
Joe  Staley,  with  his  brother  I^n,  had  left  home  before  the 
Klondike  e.xcitement,  attracted  by  reports  from  Miller 
Creek,  and  reached  Dawson  in  June,  1S97.  His  lot  was 
about  that  of  the  average  new-comer,  until  he  fell  in 

399 


THE    KLONDIKE   STAMPEDE 

with  the  oM  CariNm  miner.     On  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
two  hundreil  fcrt  ab<»ve  the  valley  <>f  KKl<)railt>,  the  two 
men  beijan  divr:4ini;.     Four  feet  down  they  found  ijold, 
and,  without  waiting  Ui  see  how  much,  they  i>itehed  the 
jjravel  back  an*I  put  in  another  tire  so  as  to  make  believe 
they  had  not  reachevl  l>e<l-rock,  for  not  twenty  feet  from 
their  hole  was  a  jiaih  down  whieh  the  miners  of  EUlorad»> 
daily  drajji^eil  w«hh1  for  their  fires.     Joe  hunted  up  liis 
brother,  and  on  the  19th  of  >[areh  he  stakeil  Discovery, 
100  feet  square,  antl  Ik-n  the  same  area  alongsiile.     They 
ivink  another  hole,  striking  bed-rock  at  nine  feet.     Cari- 
bou Billy  went  down   into  the  hole,  and,  after  looking 
around,  calleil  up,  *'\\Vve  got  it!*'     A  pan  was  passet! 
down  to  him  and  he  sent  up  three  pans  of  dirt,  which  were 
put  into  a  sack  and  taken  to  the  creek  to  pan.     There 
was  $189,75  in  the  sack.     Before  they  could  get  back  to 
the  hole  another  ** party"  had  been  down  and  found  a 
nugget  as  large  as  his  thumb.    Joe  threw  water  into  the 
hole  and  froze  it  and  then  recortled  the  claim.     A  stam- 
pede followed.     I  wxs  making  my  last  round  before  the 
thaw  of  the  creeks  at  the  time.     I  saw  men  going  u|»  a 
path  in  the  snow,  which  was  nothing  unusual,  and  S4)me 
heaps  of  yellow  earth,  at  which  men  were  working  with 
picks  and  shovels.     The  hill  was  completely  staked  off, 
and  Dominion  surveyors  were  trying  to  straighten  out 
the  lines  of  the  stampeilers.     I  looked  over  the  gn>und, 
admireil  the  view  from  the  hill,  and  then  went  down  and 
talked  with  Jv»e  F*utrow,  foreman  for  Professor  Lippy.on 
No.  16  Eldorado,  who  was  putting  in  a  dam  for  sluicing, 
and  asketl  him  what  they  had  up  there.     l*utrow  didn't 
think  there  was  anything  there.     Neither  did  t)thers  I 
talked  with  ;  none  of  the  men   in  the  creek  had  beea 
up  to  stake. 

That  evening,  at  the  Grand  Forks  Hotel,  the  survey- 

400 


THE    *'CLEAX.UP'    BKGUX 

ors,  who  did  not  know  more  than  any  one  else,  offered  nie 
a  set  of  stakes  that  were  not  taken.  On  the  way  baek 
in  the  morninjj  I  met  an  acquaintance  who  had  been 
working  all  winter  on  IVmanza.  He  had  his  sled  and 
prospectinjj  tools;  he  had  spent  several  days  div^j;;int,^ 
on  the  hill,  and  was  on  his  way  back.  When  I  asked 
what  there  was  up  there,  he  replied,  in  his  picturesque 
languajje,  "  I'm  from  Missouri,  and  you've  y:ot  to  show 
it  to  me.  I  couldn't  hnd  *  colors'  in  holes  they  were 
throwing  half-i>unce  nuggets  out  of.  I  think  it's  mostly 
*salted.*"  A  Missourian,  I  believe,  takes  nothing  on 
hearsay.  I  turned  back,  and  we  l)oth  went  over  to 
EK^minion  Creek  and  then  returned  to  town,  to  cogitate, 
a  few  weeks  later,  on  the  hckleness  of  fortune. 

The"cle?Ji-up'*  had  been  under  way  several  weeks  be- 
fore I  could  again  visit  the  mines.  Unfortunately  much 
of  the  work  of  sluicing  the  winter's  dumf)s  was  over, 
ami  considerable  of  the  gold,  with  its  happy  owners,  had 
come  down  the  gulch.  But  the  scarcity  of  water  after 
the  subsidence  of  the  freshet,  owing  to  the  small  rain- 
fall, was  holding  back  the  work  on  Eldorado,  where  the 
largest  dumps  were;  and,  lx»sides,  all  the  summer  work 
of  ** ground-sluicing  "  was  yet  to  l)e  done. 

Along  the  beaten  trail  to  the  tliggings  the  as|>ect  <►! 
nature  was  that  of  another  clime.  The  thermometer 
had  been  indicating  70^  in  the  shade  at  mid -day,  an«l 
there  were  no  clouds  to  intercept  and  modify  the  rays 
of  the  sun.  Pack-horses  and  mules  loaded  with  sacks 
and  boxes  plodded  along  in  single  tile  towards  the 
mines,  or  were  returning  empty  to  town.  StamiK:tlers, 
in  squads  of  three  and  Hve,  with  c«iats  off,  ami  mining 
pans  and  shovels  on  their  backs,  picked  their  way  fr«»m 
tussock  to  tussock,  following  the   winding  trail  in  antl 

403 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

out  amonjj  the  trees  in  the  valley  of  lower  Bonanza, 
or  they  lay  on  the  p^rounil,  restinj;  in  the  shade  of  the 
birches  l)y  rivulets  of  ci»Ul,  clear  water  that  trickled  out 
of  the  side- gulches.  Xow  and  then  one  overtook  a 
miner,  leatlinjjj  one  or  more  doj^s  with  little  canvas  siile- 
pouches  stuffed  out  with  cans  of  provisions,  goinj^  to  his 
claim.  Summer  had  chanii^ed  beyond  recogniti<»n  the 
winter's  trail.  Dams  of  crib -work  filled  with  stones, 
flumes,  and  sluice -!x>xes  lay  across  our  path  ;  heaps  of 
**tailin«4s'*  glistened  in  the  sunlight  beside  yawning 
holes  with  windlasses  tumbled  in;  cabins  were  deserted 
— the  whole  creek,  wherever  work  had  been  done,  was 
rippetl  antl  gutted.  Nothing  but  rttK)d  and  fire  is  so 
ruthless  xs  the  miner. 

Pretty  s<x»n  we  came  to  some  miners  at  work.  One 
man  was  filling  a  wheelbarrow  at  a  dump  anil  unloatl- 
ing  the  earth  and  stones  into  a  string  of  sluice-l)<)xes 
extending  from  a  long  flume  at  the  side  of  the  valley  ; 
another  man  in  rubber  boots,  with  a  close-tined  pitch- 
fork, sto<Kl  ankle-deep  in  a  torrent  of  water  that  half 
filled  the  boxes,  and  forked  out  the  larger  stones.  A  little 
farther  on  three  men  were  *^ stripping"  muck  off  a  claim, 
ready  for  **grountl-sIuicing."  A  string  of  sluice- boxes 
running  through  the  middle  of  the  claim  brought  water 
from  a  dam  ab<>ve,  and  as  the  water  fell  u[)on  the  frozen 
muck  they  "picked"  it  out  in  chunks  as  black  as  coal, 
which  the  water  gradually  disst^lved  and  carried  off.  In 
several  places  ** stripping"  was  finished  and  the  sluice- 
boxes  were  in  place  for  sluicing,  and  crews  of  eight  and 
ten  men,  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  all  wearing  rubber  boots, 
were  engaged,  some  in  wheeling  the  top  dirt  off  in  bar- 
rows and  dumping  it  at  one  side  of  the  creek,  while 
others  shovelled  dirt  frr»m  bed-rt)ck  into  the  boxes. 

One  man  stood  inside  the  sluice  with  an  implement 

404 


>?■ 


j^«v'*ff*'f.9^ 


>:--,iii^ 


•  ^-o,,. 


..S!^- 


'ixa^  V  ''Sitt>rvwife4iirt^  .-^W.-. 


isB—' 


*J,:i 


jirys^^^^i^^M^ 


at/  No.  J  Abo»« 

\     THE   FORKS  OF   BONANZA  AND   ELDORADO  CREEKS. 


+  r>i«overy  CI  li 


•^^^r^. 


V>  I  iiina <iit--  r  fc  1 1  n' iV  i ir  i  "^^' ' -w;rr VjhWawr'iiifcg^ m  f"- 'klkotti^i^^-'^-^-^-^i iTrrifr  J  H  UnhiY' fti'i 


ijrT;>W^- 


^^fV*^^' 


,*d«^^* 


V\^, 


^•Ab9n  ImcoToy 


■^     No- »A  Abo»€   IhU  Lo«e  JrMiMjo)  No,  J  Atw*« 

PANORAMIC  VIEW  OF   BONANZA  CREEK   BETWEEN   DISCOVERY  CLAIM   AND  THE   FORKS  OF   BONANZA  AND   ELDORADO  CREEKS. 


6 


^' 


'^— --^:r^-^^^    Til-" 


>k^ ::««». 


"-'i'^ 


-'T-*^—  'i-ar  f  1 


"^ '    -  -    - .. 


No    I   Ab»Tt 

IS  OF   BONANZA   AND    ELDORADO   CREEKS.  IN   AL'Gl'ST.   1898.  TWO   YEARS   AFTER   THE    DISCOVERY 


St*.  4  Abov* 


«t 


G  R  O  U  X  D .  S  L  U  I  C  I  X  ( )  " 


like  a  hoe  with  tines,  or  with  a  round  <lisk  of  wood  on  the 
end,  with  which  he  raked  the  heavier  stofics  towards 
the  dump-box,  where  another  man  stood  pitchin;^  tliem 
out  with  a  fork,  while  still  another,  at  the  end  <)f  the 
dump-box,  shovelled  the  small  stones  into  a  heap  eaih 
side.  Althoujjh  most  of  the  water  passes  throui^h  the 
boxes  or  flumes,  a  considerable  portion  leaks  into  the 


REMOVING   RIKFLt:^    PREPARATORY   TO   **  CLEAMNO-LP 

bottom  of  the  cut,  so  that  nearly  every  claim  had  a 
** china  wheel"  rigged  for  piimping  the  water  out.  The 
**china  wheel"  is  an  endless  belt,  with  buckets  every  foot 
or  so,  running  over  two  wheels  placed  as  far  apart  as 
the  depth  of  the  cut  makes  necessary,  the  upper  wheel 
being  worked  by  a  sluice-head  of  water  against  a  small 
overshot  wheel.  When  there  is  not  enough  water  the 
pump  is  turned  by  hand. 

405 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

Xo  one  seemed  ready  t«>  make  a  "clean-up,"  s<^  I  kept 
on  to  X<».  13  EKlnrado,  where  I  knew  one  of  the  '*b<»sses." 
Here  a  big  flume,  higher  than  the  eaves  of  the  cabins, 
was  tapped  at  right  angles  by  strings  of  shiice-bt>xes, 
one  for  each  dump,  which  were  not  yet  all  sluiced. 
Four  claims,  Xos.  13,  14,  15,  and  16,  were  U!>ing  the  same 
dam  and  flume.  Half  a  dozen  men  were  lying  around 
idle,  and  I  was  uAd  they  had  been  nearly  a  week  waiting 
for  a  turn  at  the  water.  The  flume  was  as  dry  as  a  tinder- 
box.  I  had  the  go<xl-f«>rtune  not  to  have  been  there  long 
before  the  flume  began  to  drip,  and  pretty  soon  a  go(xl 
volume  of  water  was  pouring  through.  I  noticed  three 
men  standing  beside  one  of  the  dumps;  they  were 
**  Bill "  Leggett,  one  of  the  i>wners  of  the  claim,  and  two 
workmen.  George  \Vils*>n,  partner  of  Swifiwater  Bill, 
said,  •*  H  you  want  to  see  a  clean-up  you'd  better  go 
over  there."  A  tin  tub,  a  whisk-broom,  and  two  or  three 
small  copper  sc^h>|>s  lay  on  the  ground  iK^ide  the  bo.xes, 
the  fifties  of  which  were  clogged  with  dirt.  The  first 
the  men  did  was  to  lift  out  the  riflles,  and  then  they 
shovelled  the  dirt  from  the  bottom  of  the  b«>xes  into 
the  tub.  In  the  appearance  of  thfs  dirt  there  was  noth- 
ing strikingly  handsome;  at  a  little  distance  it  hmked 
like  dirt  one  could  dig  out  <»f  the  ground  anywhere.  Mr. 
Leggett  climl>ed  up  on  the  flume,  raised  a  little  gate  at 
the  head  of  the  string  of  boxes,  suflicient  to  allow  half  a 
sluice -head  of  water  to  run  through.  Then  he  took  a 
position  beside  the  b<^xes,  which  stood  about  two  feet  off 
the  ground,  with  the  whisk-broom  in  one  hand.  One  of 
the  men  then  shovelled  the  dirt  out  (►f  the  tub  into  the 
sluice-box,  and  Mr.  Leggett  began  sweeping  it  upward 
against  the  current.  The  lighter  stones  and  gravel  were 
immediately  carried  off",  with  a  lot  t)f  dirty  water,  into 
the  dump-bo.x.     The  sweeping  was  kept  up  until  there 

406 


MAKIN(;    A    *C  LEAN- UP" 

remained  in  the  bottom  <>f  the  N>x  a  mass  of  blaek  mav:- 
netic  sand.  The  man  with  the  bnx»m  continued  s\veei>- 
ing;  little  by  little  the  black  sand  worked  downward,  and 
at  the  upper  edge  blotches  of  yellow  began  to  ap[>ear.  In 
probably  tive  minutes  there  lay  on  the  bottom  a  mx*is 
of  yellow,  from  which  nearly  all  the  black  sand  was  gone. 
The  yellow  was  not  bright  and  glittering,  but  dull — 
almost  the  color  of  the  new -sawn  wo<h1  nf  the  lK».\es. 
The  water  was  turned  otf  and  the  gold  carefully  scooped 


••CLElVMM.-Lr"  SUMMtR    DU;i;lXGS,  N<i.  J/b   LUm>KALm> 


up  into  the  pan,  where  it  lo<.>ked  like  fat  wheat,  with  here 
and  there  a  grain  as  large  as  a  hazel-nut.  There  was 
only  $Soo  in  the  pan,  Mr.  Leggett  said— a  small  clean-up 
for  Eldorado. 

On  No.  36,  two  miles  above,  summer  work  had  begun. 
The  claim  had  been  "stripped"  the  summer  before,  and 
now  a  crew  of  half  a  dozen  men  had  just  finished  their 

407 


THE     KLONDIKE    STAMI'ICDE 

first  shovellinj;  into  three  strinj^s  of  boxes.  As  I  stood 
on  the  bank  l<»okin^  down  into  the  **eut,"  I  saw  a  man 
go  up  to  the  dam  and  shut  otY  the  water.  Then  a  tall» 
middle-aged  man,  in  a  flannel  sliirt  and  rubber  ImjoIs,  w  h<» 
appeared  to  be  the  *' boss,**  and  who  proved  to  be  Mr. 
Styles,  half-owner  of  the  claim  with  Alec  MiDonaKl, 
walked  out  upon  the  bo.\es  and  picked  up  some  nuj;- 
gets,  which  he  dropped  into  the  i)ockets  of  his  overalls. 
Another  man  then  followed  him  out,  and  they  lifted  the 
riffles  out,  tapping  each  frame  against  the  side  of  the  box 
to  shake  off  any  gold  that  might  cling  to  it,  and  pasM-d 
them  to  a  third  man,  who  laid  them  in  the  dump-box. 
Then  Mr.  Styles  tt»ok  a  tool  made  from  an  olil  shovel. 
bent  and  trimmed  off  square  at  the  end  like  a  hoe,  and 
with  this  he  ht»ed  the  dirt  into  a  heap  in  the  secoiul 
box  up-stream.  Half  a  sluice-head  of  water  was  turned 
on,  which  carried  away  considerable  mud.  Three  tall 
** horses"  were  next  placed  alongside  the  boxes  and  a 
plank  laid  over  them,  s<^  that  a  man  could  walk  along 
and  look  into  the  boxes.  The  water  was  now  turned 
off  entirely,  and  the  lower  end  of  the  last  box  was  lifted 
up  and  allowed  to  rest  upon  a  stick  laid  across  the 
dump-box,  a  heavy  stone  being  placed  on  top  to  hold  it 
firm.  A  very  small  quantity  of  water  was  n<)w  let 
through.  Mr.  Styles  and  an  assistant  took  a  gt)l<l-pan. 
a  whisk-broom  each,  some  little  scoops,  and  a  wooden 
paddle  about  a  foot  long,  and  walked  out  oii  the  trestle. 
Mr.  Styles  began  pushing  the  dirt  against  the  current 
with  the  paddle.  Considerable  mud  and  liglu  dirt  was 
worked  off,  and  then  each  took  a  whisk-broom  and  began 
sweeping  the  remaining  sand  with  the  upward  move- 
ment before  described,  and  when  no  more  sand  could 
be  worked  out  the  gold  was  scooped  up  into  the  pan. 
The  same  operation  was  gone  through  with  at  the  two 

408  . 


IlKUI    PANS    OF    GOLD 

other  boxes,  the  j^^old  frt)m  each  bein^  put  into  a  separate 
pan  and  then  taken  to  the  owners'  cabin.  In  the  pho- 
tj»j^raph  below,  showing;  Mr.  Styles  at  the  door  of  his 
cabin,  there  arc  four  pans  that  SiCin  to  contain  j^old. 
The  fourth  is  a  pan  of  <^rai'il  that  I  did  not  notice 
in  range  when  the  picture  was  taken,  and  shows  how- 
easy  it  would  be  to  take  a  picture  of  a  panful  of  sand 


m\ 


^t^'^'^ilrr.l^S 


and  call  it  "gold.**     The  clean-up  was  also  a  small  one 
— about  $5000. 

(leorge  Wilsuii  showed  me  his  note-b«K)k,  with  the 
records  of  the  pannings  made  during  the  winter  on 
Swiftwater  Bill's  **  lav,**  of  which  he  was  half -owner. 
The  "pay"  was  already  located,  and  they  simply  panned 
to  keep  U[)on  the  "streak."  The  first  pan  was  taken 
Octotx;r  19,  1S97,  and  the  last  March  11,  1898,  and  about 

409 


THE    KLONDIKI:    STAMTEDK 

two  pans  a  clay  were  taken.  The  total  was  $^'•5X4. 50, 
an  averajje  of  $50  to  the  pan  !  On  many  claims  on 
Bonanza  and  Eldorado  pans  ui  $^;  to  $S  were  so  com- 
mon that  they  failed  to  cause  special  comment.  Still. 
to  show  how  misleadinij  siiij;le  hij;h  pans  are,  a  pan  of 
$150  was  found  on  a  certain  claim  which  on  the  clean- 
up hardly  paid  the  wa^es  of  the  men.  The  pay-streak 
on  Nt).  3  Eldorado  was  not  located  until  late  in  March. 
and  several  of  the  "laymen"  had  tpiit  wi.rk  in  discoura;4e- 
ment.  When  the  "pay"  was  fouml,  the  Hrst  fourteen 
pans  went  $2200.  Two  nuggets,  weighing  res[)ectively 
$312  and  $400.  were  found  during  the  summer  on  Xo.  36 
Eldorado. 

The  question  is  often  asked,  "What  was  the  largest 
amount  of  gold  taken  in  a  single  pan  .^  One  of  alxjut 
$1700  wa.s  reported  on  EMorado,  but  was  probably  a 
** picked"  pan — that  is,  taken  a  little  here  and  a  little 
there  —  and  therefore  not  representative.  On  No.  36 
Eldorado,  in  August,  the  shovellers  were  handling  dirt 
which  any  one  could  see  at  a  glance  was  very  rich.  One 
<)f  the  workmen  threw  a  shovelful  out  on  a  tlat  rock  to 
show  the  boss,  and  another  was  added  so  as  t<)  make  a 
fidl  pan.  Mr.  Styles  panned  the  tlirt  out,  and  it  went 
$f)90  (Hguring  $17  to  the  ounce).  A  second  pan  went 
over  $500.  These  were  not  "picked,"  but  "shovelled 
square."  I  asked  Mr.  Styles  to  estimate  the  product  of 
a  single  "box-length."  He  said  that  from  a  space  15x12 
feet  he  had  taken  $17,000.  His  "pay"  being  two  feet 
thick,  a  richness  is  indicated  of  $1.20  to  the  pan. 

The"  Dick  Lowe  Fraction,"  probably  the  richest  ground 
in  Klondike,  carries  the  pay -streak  of  Bonanza  and  that 
of  Eldorado  and  the  "wash"  of  Shookum  (iulch.  The 
foreman,  out  c»f  whom  a  corkscrew  couldn't  pull  any  in- 
formation of  the  amount  »>f  his  clean-ups,  confessed  to 

410 


THK    RICHEST    I)  I  (Wi  I  N('.  S 

have  taken  f«mr  pans  ciuUaininij  forty  ounces,  or  $'>So, 
each»  anil  that  had  he  desired  he  could  have  *'|)ieked" 
a  pan  of  a  hundred  ounces.  A  mati  t<»ld  me  he  saw  a 
"cupful"  of  j^old  panned  out  of  a  sinjjle  shovelful  of 
dirt.  Those  who  saw  the  Hrst  clean-up  from  this  strip 
of  ground  say  that  it  was  all  two  men  could  do  to  carry 
off  the  j;old  in  two  pans  from  the  clean-ups  of  the 
dumps.  A  "panful"  of  j^old  is  not  l)y  any  means  a 
**pan  full."  A  minin;^-pan  will  bear  only  so  much 
weight  without  "buckling"  when  lifted  by  the  rim,  but 
it  holtis  safely  seventy  -  Hve  pounds.  This  year  it  was 
estimated  that  forty  days'  sluicing  off  the  dumps  turn- 
ed out  $^jo.ooo.  Summer  work,  "grountl- sluicing,"  l>e- 
gan  ab«->ut  the  end  of  July.  Half  a  dozen  men  were 
wt»rking.  At  the  end  of  three  weeks  seven  panfuls  of 
gold  were  carried  away  to  the  ca!>in — about  300  |H)unds, 
or  $75,000.  In  the  next  six  days  5^)8,000  was  cleaned  up, 
making  a  total  for  the  year  of  alK>ut  $200,000.  These 
estimates  are  only  approximate,  but  made  by  careful  «»n- 
!i>okers  who  reported  what  they  s:iw.  Leaving  a  wide 
margin  for  inaccuracy,  ami  assuming  that  a  whole  500- 
foot  claim  ran  as  evenly  as  the  7S-foot  strip,  it  would 
represent  over  $i,;oo,ooo;  and  if  authorities  are  right 
who  say  that  by  the  present  crude  meth«>ds  of  mining 
not  more  than  one-fourth  of  the  whole  amount  of  gold 
in  the  ground  is  taken  out,  the  possible  richness  of  Klon- 
dike ground  is  bewildering  to  contemplate.  The  creeks 
are,  however,  left  in  such  shape  that  it  tloes  not  pay  to 
work  over  the  ground  the  second  time  by  present 
methods,  the  only  hojie  being  cheaper  labor  and  s<.>me 
kind  of  hydraulicking  on  a  large  scale. 

Charley  Anderson,  who  was  "buncoed"  into  buying 
No.  29  Eldoratlo,  has  taken  out  $300,000  for  his  two 
years'  work.     He  gave  a  "lay"  to  a  man  who  had  Ih.*- 

4*1 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

friended  him  before  he  went  to  the  Yukon.     This  'May- 
man  "  expected  to  clean  up  $130,000. 

Last  November  two  men  ap[)Iied  to  Picotte  v^  Hall. 
No.  17  Eldorado,  for  work.  They  were  given  a  supposed 
valueless  *'  lay/'  60  x  40  feet,  sunk  to  bed-rock,  and  in 
the  first  pan  scraped  up  $400.  Two  months  later  Hall 
offered  them  $50,000  to  leave  their  work,  but  they  re- 
fused. Their  clean-up  is  not  known,  but  they  stated 
that  their  "prospect"  pannings  for  the  winter  lacked  just 
§150  of  being  an  even  $10,000. 

The  benches  continued  the  wonder  of  the  camp.  The 
hill -sides  for  eight  miles  below  and  four  miles  al>ove 
Discovery,  on  B<»nanza  Creek,  were  sp<itted  with  dumps, 
encircling  spots  like  French  Hill  and  Lancaster's  *'CM>ld 
Hiir*  like  a  Hllet  of  gold  at  a  nearly  uniform  level.  All 
day  long  was  heard  the  swis//,  szcis/i  of  hundreds  of  rock- 
ers. **  Bed-rock  "of  the  benches  is  a  stiff,  clay-like,dec<>m- 
posed  mica -schist,  extending  from  the  so-called  "rim," 
nearly  level  into  the  hill.  The  best  workings  were  at  the 
**rim,"  where  the  gold  was  covered  by  only  a  few  inches 
of  dirt.  As  the  miners  dug  into  the  hill  the  depth  of 
pay  increased  from  a  few  inches  to  several  feet.  Those 
on  the  second  tier  were  obliged  to  sink  shafts.  Five  or 
sue  tiers  back  holes  were  sunk  by  the  slow  process  of 
burning  over  one  hundred  feet.  I  was  at  Staley's  after 
he  had  worked  about  twentv  feet  into  the  face  of  the 
hill,  and  the  gold  could  be  plainly  seen  in  the  strip  of 
dark  earth  and  gravel  about  a  f<K)t  thick.  Every  panful 
of  dirt  then  g<Mng  into  their  single  rocker  was  worth  $5. 
Two  claims  northward  of  Staley's  a  man  named  David- 
son rocked  out  ten  pounds  of  gold  for  three  consccuti\Hi 
days  I  I  happened  to  be  at  Lancaster's  one  day  at  noon, 
just  after  a  clean-up  of  seventy-six  ounces.    In  the  after- 

412 


CARRYING    DOWN    THE    (lOLD 

noon  fifty  more  ounces  were  rocked  out,  or  $^142  for  the 
dav,  the  Klondike  bench  record  for  one  rocker.  One 
hundred  dollars  a  day  was  common  in  several  plaics. 
There  were  claims  one  hundred  feet  stjuare  worth  [>rob- 
a!>ly  $50,000,  yet  there  were  others  in  the  nu>st  favorable 
Imations  that  did  not  yield  a  single  dollar  from  edj;e  to 
edv;e  of  the  claim. 

Rich  bench  discoveries  were  made  on  Bear  and  Ouartz 
creeks,  and  on  D«>minion  ;  the  latter,  however,  beinj^  at 
lower  levels  than  on  Bonanza. 

The  gold  was  carried  down  on  the  backs  of  men,  mules, 
and  dogs.  It  was  nothing  unusual  ti>  see  twelve  or  six- 
teen men  along  the  trail  loaded  with  gt>ld  from  a  single 
claim.  The  amount  of  gold  a  man  can  carry  for  a  long 
distance  is  much  less  than  one  might  sup|)ose.  Gold  is  one 
of  the  most  concentrated  substances  known,  and  there  is 
scarcely  any  way  of  equalizing  the  weight  s<.)  it  will  bear 
evenly  upon  the  back.  One  500,600,  or  Soo  ounce  nuMise- 
hide  sack  full  of  the  dust  makes  an  ample  load  for  a  man. 
The  sack  is  wrapjied  in  cloths,  then  put  into  the  pack- 
strap;  but  many  a  sack,  especially  those  belonging  to 
the  smaller  miners,  was  carried  down  in  blankets,  partly 
to  make  the  load  carry  more  softly,  and  partly  to  avoid 
suspicion,  although  whenever  one  ol>served  a  blanket 
dragging  hard  on  the  straps,  one  could  be  pretty  sure 
there  was  gold  inside.  Horses  and  mules  brought  down 
the  greater  part  of  the  clean-up.  The  amount  actually 
carried  by  a  single  horse  has  been  somewhat  exagger- 
ated. The  packers,  returning  "light,"  preferred  to  di- 
vide the  gold  equally  among  all  the  horses,  and  s<i  two 
sacks  of  gold,  weighing  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  to 
one  hundred  and  thirty  p<^unds,  worth  $25,000  or  more, 
was  the  usual  load  for  one  horse.     The  sacks  for  horse- 

413 


THK    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

back  packinij  were  wrapped  in  alxiut  a  dozen  thicknesses 
of  canvas,  and  then  hished  each  side  of  an  ordinary  pack- 
s;iddle,  or  else  dropped  into  the  capacious  side -pouches 
of  the  leathern  araf^cjo.  When  carried  in  the  latter  way 
several  hundred  thousand  dollars  nii^^ht  pass  by  unno- 
ticed. No  extrai>rilinary  precautions  seem  to  have  been 
taken  against  robbers.  Bartlett's  train  i»f  a  dozen  mules, 
which  brought  down  more  goUl  than  any  other,  was 
simply  in  charge  of  two  men,  who  rode  one  at  each  end 
of  the  string  with  a  shot-gun  resting  over  the  pommel 
of  the  saddle.  Notwithstanding  the  opportunities  pre- 
sented, there  were  but  one  or  two  cases  of  highway  rob- 
bery, and  those  only  for  small  amounts.  Much  more  g»'ld 
was  stolen  !)y  miners  ^rom  their  partners  or  employers 
There  rarely  was  an  opjH>rijnity  ft>r  a  common  workman 
to  steal,  unless  in  charge  of  trie  clean-up. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see,  as  one  ci>uld  alnn»st  any 
clay,  a  train  of  eighteen  dogs  working  iR-tween  Dawson 
and  the  mines  in  charge  of  one  man,  who  letl  one  dog 
while  the  rest  folliwed  or  walked  aheatl.  Once,  when 
coming  down  creek  with  twenty  to  thirty  |)ounds  of  gold 
each,  one  of  the  tlogs,  in  attempting  to  walk  a  foot-log 
over  the  creek,  slipped  and  fell  in.  Fortunately  f«)r  the 
dog,  his  load  slipped  off  and  he  swam  ashore.  The  gold 
was  afterwards  fished  out  and  saved. 

The  total  output  of  the  Klondike  amounted  to  between 
ten  and  eleven  millions, or  a  weight  of  alxnit  twenty-tive 
tt)ns.  Earlier  estimates  of  the  probable  amount  gave 
$15,000,000  to  §20,000,000.  But  on  the  clean-up  the  win- 
ter dumps  did  not  turn  out  as  expected.  An  immense 
amount  of  work  on  Lower  Bonanza  prmluceil  small  re- 
sult.s,  the  laymen  on  several  claims  ct>nsenting  to  remain 
only  u|)on  receiving  seventy-five  j>er  cent.  On  the  other 
hand,  upi>er  I^manza  anti   Eldorado  washed-up  better 

4»4 


TIIK    OUTPUT    OF    KLONDIKE 

than  "pmspects"  indicated.     The  output  was  divided 
anionyj  the  creeks  about  as  follows  : 

Kl(K>rad<»,  $4,000,000  to  $5,000,000;  Honanza,$;, 000,000 
to  $4,000,000  ;  Hunker  and  l>ear,  $1.000,000 ;  l>oniinion. 
Sulphur,  and  other  creeks,  $1,000,000.     The  amount  rc- 


jTCOMBlNATir 


IMm;    rACK-TRAIN    I  HAVING   I>A\VSi>N    FOR   THE    MINf.S 

ceived  by  refiners  and  the  United  States  Mint,  chierty  at 
Seattle  and  San  Francisco,  amounted,  between  July  1  and 
November  i,  1S9S,  to  $10,055,270.* 

If  the  numlx^r  of  men  directly  enj]jaijed  in  the  pro- 
duction of  this  sum  may  be  considered  as  2000  (and  it 


♦  S;imuel  C  Dunham.  Report  of  U.  S.  Department  of  Labor 

4»5 


4  > 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMIMCDK 

is  nearly  twice  the  number  estimated  by  one  excellent 
authority),  this  output  re(>resents  an  average  produc- 
tion per  man  of  over  $5000. 

Upon  reaching  Dawson  the  g«»hl  was  taken  either  t 
the  warehouses  of  the  commercial  companies  «>r  to  the 
"vaults"  of  two  newly  arrived  banks  —  the  Canailian 
Bank  of  Commerce  and  the  Hank  of  Hritisli  North 
America — where  it  was  packed  in  strong,  S(|uare,  iron- 
bound  boxes  for  shipment  by  steamer  to  Seattle  and 
San  Francisco. 

A  complete  assaying  ofHce  was  established,  where 
miners  could  have  their  gold  assayed  at  about  the  same 
cost  as  ** outside," ////JT  freight  and  insurance,  and  re- 
ceiveil  drafts  or  bank-notes  for  the  full  value.  No  lt>t 
of  less  than  fifty  ounces  was  receivetl  for  assay.  The 
golil  came  from  the  smelter  in  ingots  weighing  forty  to 
one  hundred  ounces,  of  the  sha[)e  and  size  of  chocolate 
cakes. 

The  gold  from  the  ditlerent  creeks  varies  greatly  in 
fineness,  as  is  shown  by  the  ft)llowing  table  supplied  by 
the  assay  office : 

Lower  Bonanza $15.75  to  $16.35  to  the  ounce. 

Upper  Ik>nanza $16.75  to  $18. $0. 

Eldorado  (Creek) $16.50. 

French  Hill $15  to  $16. 5a 

Mouth  of  SkfMikum $1 5  (much  quartz  in  the  goKh. 

Dominion,  nearly $17.    • 

Hunker.sometimes $i7-5o. 

Bear $15  to  $16. 

Forty- Mile   and    Birch    Creeks 

(.American  Ter.).  nearly     .     .     .  $17.50. 

Minook(.\mcrican  Ter.),  about     .  $18. 

The  diflferent  kinds  are  distinguishable  to  the  trained 

416 


PRIMITIVE    BANKING    FACILITIES 

eye.  Eldorado  jjold,  having;  the  larj^est  alloy  of  silver, 
tin,  etc.,  has  a  distinct  brassy  color  as  comixared  with 
upper  Bonanza  or  Dominion  K«»ltl. 

** Trade"  gold,  the  dust  in  ordinary  circulation,  had 
been  rated  at  $17  per  ounce,  but  Klondike  ^old  proviny^ 
to  be  of  less  value  than  that  in  the  American  territory, 
where  the  standard  had  been  originally  rtxetl.  the  banks, 
soon  after  their  arrival,  in  June,  reduced  the  price  to  $16, 
which  amount,  according  t«»  the  assay  otlice,  is  nearly  50 
cents  more  than  its  actual  value,  because  of  the  ilirt  and 
black  sand  usually  left  in  it.  This  maj^netic  sand  is  readily 
removed  with  a  strong  magnet,  and  in  s<»me  transactions 
it  is  required  to  be  done.  The  Bank  of  Commerce  had 
arrived  in  a  scow,  and  found  tem|>orary  quarters  in  a 
small  warehouse,  abi^>ut  fifteen  by  eighteen  feet  in  di- 
mensions, with  no  windows  and  a  single  d<.M)r,  in  front  of 
which  a  counter  was  built,  leaving  suthcient  sj)ace  inside 
for  customers  to  stand.  Within  the  nwim  was  a  table 
and  chairs,  and  the  agent,  Mr.  Wills,  assisted  by  one  or 
two  clerks,  received  gold-dust,  which  he  weighed  in  a 
pair  of  immense  scales,  issuing  pa|)er  money  or  drafts 
in  return.  The  *' vaults"  were  two  wtKnlen  tin  -  lined 
boxes,  four  feet  long,  three  feet  wide,  and  three  feet 
deep,  with  a  lid.  Upi>n  one  i»ccasion  I  s;iw  these  half 
full  of  gold  sacks,  also  five  boxes  of  gold  packeil  for  ship- 
ment, each  holding  from  500  to  800  jHiunds  of  gold-dust 
— close  to  a  million  dollars  in  all.  On  the  table  in  front 
of  the  agent  was  a  stack  of  notes  a  fi>ot  high,  though  the 
door  was  wide  *)pen,  and  there  was  not  a  wea|>on  or  a 
guard  in  sight.  Afterwards  they  removcnl  to  a  large 
building  next  to  the  barracks.  Being  under  govern- 
ment auspices,  each  shipment  of  gold  was  accompanied 
by  a  mounted  policeman  armed  with  a  Wiiuhester  rille. 
The  first  quarters  of  the  Bank  of  British  N«»rth  America 
3D  4»7 


THE    KLOXDIKE    STAMPEDE 

was  even  more  crude— -only  a  frame  <>f  scant  liny:  covered 
with  canvas. 

"* C /u'l'/tafd'o  money/'  as  currency  is  called,  rapidly  su- 
perseded ^old-dust.  The  Hank  nf  Commerce  alone  issued 
nearly  a  million  iK>llars  in  bank-notes  during  the  sum- 
mer. The  new-comers  also  brought  in  much  small 
change,  with  the  result  that  by  the  end  of  summer  alH)ut 
half  the  retail  business  was  conducted  in  currency.  The 
use  of  currency  was  further  encouraged  by  an  important 
decision  of  the  court,  which  declared  that  gold-dust  couKl 
not  bef«)rced  in  payment  of  indebtedness  unless  express- 
ly stipulated. 

There  have  l)een  curious  checks  presented  to  cashiers 
of  banks,  as  when  Jay  Gould  purchased  a  railroad  and 
drewacheck  in  payment  on  the  back  of  an  oUI  envelope; 
l)Ut  probably  there  never  was  one  more  unique  than  a 
check  presented  at  the  Bank  of  Commerce  in  Dawson. 
It  was  written  on  a  piece  of  spruce  lumber  about  six 
inches  square  with  a  wire  nail  **  toe-nailed  "  into  its  up- 
per edge.     It  read: 

**CA>L.UiL\N    Ii.\_NK   OF  CoMMKRCE. 

*•  GtntUmt'n. — Please  pay  \V.  F.  Foster  $3.00  f»)r  ser\  ices  ren- 
dered. J.  C.  HOK.NK  &  Co. 

-  By  R 
••  l)AWs<^»N  Cirv,  ^w-«//4,  iS«>S." 

The  check  was  duly  endorsed  **  \V.  F.  Foster,"  and 
stam^)ed  "  Paid."  The  cashier  was  in  di)ubt  what  the 
nail  had  been  driven  in  for,  until  Mr.  Poster  suggested 
that  it  might  be  for  "  filing  "  the  check. 

From  the  moment  it  was  underst«MKl  that  the  richness 
of  Klondike  was  locked  in  frozen  ground,  the  brains  of 
inventors  had  l)een  busy  trying  to  devise  a  ijuii  ker  and 
cheaper  way  of  getting  at  the  goUl  than  burning.  One 
of  the  most  practical  of  these,  and  the  only  one  I  saw  in 

418 


S  T  E  A  M  -  T  H  A  \V  I  X  ( i    MACHINE 

ofKTation,  was  a  machine  consistiiijj^  of  a  hollow  aiijj^cr 
having  a  diameter  of  nine  inches  with  a  length  of  twelve 
inches,  and  a  hollow  stem  connectinj:^  with  a  }^enerat»>r, 
throui^li  which  steam  was  forced,  thawinijj  the  ground 
as  the  stem  was  turned,  and  the  stem  being  lengthened 
as  tlie  ilepth  increased.  When  stoties  were  reached  too 
large  to  pass,  the  auger  and  various  drills  and  picks  were 


XT 


^,..^.a.3^;.^^-.^.,.^;^>^^^  .:^^ii^ 


LOADING   BOXES   OF  GOLD   CPt)\   THF   STF.AMER    Kt>R    SHIPMENT   tUT 


U'led  to  loosen  them,  or  else  blasting  was  resorted  to.  It 
was  successfully  trieil  on  the  Hat  at  I)aws»)n,  and  a  nine- 
tetrn-f<K)t  hole  was  put  down  for  Sj^o  that  woultl  have  cost 
$700  to  sink  in  the  t»ld  way.  The  inventt>r  charged  $15 
per  ftxit  for  the  first  ten  feet,  and  $20  per  fo< it  for  ea<h 
succeeding  foot.  This  price,  while  high,  was  alH>ut  half 
the  cost  of  burning.     By  such  means  a   claim  can   be 

419 


THE    KLOXDIKE    STAMPEDE 

punched  full  of  holes  until  the  pay -stream  is  located, 
when  it  can  be  worked  in  the  old  way.  Patent  "rirtks/' 
for  saving  the  fine  gold  lost  at  present,  were  brouj^ht  in, 
but  not  yet  tried.  The  only  other  labor  -  savinjj  ma- 
chinery used  was  a  common  road-scraper  operated  by 
a  steel  cable  passing  over  a  drum  run  by  a  small  steam- 
engine,  used  for  removing  the  top  dirt  in  summer  dig- 
gings. Dredging-machines,of  which  much  was  expected, 
and  of  which  several  arrived,  have  not  up  to  the  present 
been  successful,  their  sanguine  promoters  apparently  be- 
ing unaware  that  the  gold  does  not  lie  on  the  bottom  of 
the  frozen  rivers,  but  many  feet  behnv,  in  frozen  gravel. 

Of  al!  the  fortunes  in   Klondike,  Alexander  McDon- 
ald is  generally  credited  with  having  the  largest.     He  is 
a  Scotchman  born,  who  came  into  the  Yukon  in   1895, 
after  varied  success  as  a  miner  in  Colorado.     At  the 
time  of  the  Klondike  strike  he  was  in  the  employ  of 
the  Alaska  Commercial  Company  at  Forty-Mile,  where 
he  showed  go<xl  judgment  in  buying  mining  properties. 
In  the  stampede  from  there,  McDonald  was  obliged 
to  join  or  be  left  alone,  and  reached  the  new  diggings 
in  September,  1896.     Being  too  late  to  stake  in  the  rich 
ground,  he  used  what  money  he  had  in  buying-in  at  the 
low  prices  which  prevailed  at  that  time.     His  first  in- 
terest was  Xo.  30  Eldorado.     Although  he  thought   so 
little  of  it  that  he  put  men  to  work  on  a  "  lay,"  while 
he  went  to  work  on  another  claim,  there  is  no  doubt  that 
he  was  among  the  first  to  rightly  apprehend  the  rich- 
ness of    Klomlike    mines.      By    mortgaging    his   claims 
(payable  at  the  clean-up  on  **bed-rock '*)  he  purchased 
other  claims,  with  few  errors  in  jutlgment.      He  is  only 
half  or  quarter  owner   in   the  richest   claims  that  are 
credited   to   him,  but    he   now  owns  upwards   of   forty 
interests  and  full  claims.     In  appearance  he  is  a  large, 

4» 


"KING    OF    THE    KLONDIKE" 

brawny,  swarthy  man,  canny  and  close  of  mouth,  with 
a  curious  habit  of  slowly  rul)binj^  his  chin  whenever  a 
new  proiK)sition  is  presented  to  him.  He  makes  it  a 
rule  to  first  say  "  Xo  "  to  every  proiK»>al,  however  al- 
luring, thus  gaining  time  to  think  it  over.    At  one  time 


BtfUyJViWpWilWI-'P.  -iW-'  "!■  *i' i'i 


J^t'f^  ■ 


'•*- 


PACK-TEAM,  U)AnF.D   WITH   CnLl>,  COING   l>OWN    B«>XANZA  CREEK 


in  the  camp  whatever  **  Big  Alec  McDonald"  approved 
of  in  mines  was  **all  right."  His  fortune  has  been  esti- 
mated at  $5,000,000,  and  may  be  more  than  that.  While 
that  much  gold  and  more  may  be  in  his  ground,  it  is 
hard  to  say  what  he  is  actually  worth.  To-day,  how- 
ever, he  is  popularly  known  as  **  King  of  the  Klondike." 


CHAPTER  XX 

Miilsumincr  in  IXi\»*>on — Ne\v>|vjpcrN — I  low  \Vc  IIf.ir<l  the  Nc\v>  of  tlic 
War — Fourth  of  fulv — Variety  Theatres — Keli<'i»>u>  Work — lknc\<»- 
lent  S«»«.ielie> — Sickncv.— Milk  $30  a  Gallon — *'  l.ost :  A  CioKl  Sack  " 


IIK  first  number  of  the  Yukon  Mit/- 
Hii^/tt  .S'////  was  issued  on  tlie  i  ith  of 
June.  It  was  a  four-paije,  three- 
column  (9X12  ineh  form)  weekly, 
but  was  subsetjuently  enlarij^ed  l«» 
a  four-pa^e  paper  of  seven  cohnnns 
each.  The  subscri|>tion  price  wa> 
50  cents  per  copy,  or  $15  per  year.  Its  Hrst  Yukon  num- 
ber was  published  in  the  late  winter  at  Caribou  Cross- 
inp^,  its  single  issue  there  beiny;  the  Caribou  Sun.  On 
the  16th  of  June  apiH'ared  the  Klondike  Xut^x^/,  a  j)ar- 
ticularly  well -printed,  four-paj;e,  four -column  fnlio,  is- 
suetl  semi-weekly,  at  50  cents  per  copy,  or  $16  a  year. 
Early  in  September  appeared  77u'  K'/ontiikc  Miner,  a 
weeklv. 

The  startlinjj  news  of  the  blowinj^^-up  of  the  Maine  in 
Havana  HarlK)r  was  broujj^ht  in  late  in  the  spring  by  the 
**  Montana  Kid,"  a  sjxjrting  gentleman  who,  in  his  hasie 
to  get  out  of  Daws<^n  the  fall  before,  had  borrowed  a 
team  of  dogs  without  the  owner's  permission.  There 
were  indefinite  rumors  of  war.  About  June  1  a  new- 
comer brought  wi>rd  that  some  <)ne  had  told  him  he  had 
seen  a  bulletin  at  Seattle  of  a  big  battle  with  the  Spani>li 


HEARING    NEWS    OF    THE    WAR 

fleet.  No  one  credited  it.  Representatives  of  outside 
newspapers  planned  for  public  readings  of  the  rir>t  def- 
inite news,  and  stationed  a  man  at  Klondike  City  to  in- 
tercept any  newspapers  that  arrived.  On  the  6ih  of 
June  word  was  passed  alonj;  the  street  that  a  paper  had 
been  found,  and  every  one  was  told  to  be  at  the  "A.  C." 


^UKOyy 


*OC  I 


D««-«L>W     N«.>«rKWDT  riKtlT^'ST     t^n  KD \V     (I'^B    lira,  lii^ 


KO.  I 


QOLD  OUTPUT  FOR  THE  YEAR  :::U'' 


ttmmt>t\  «•!>  tm  •  l»»|   mrj    *>»t-  ■■■f 
«W  OTMvr    «k«l*<«rrf|.   vortkT -fcttlarlT  W  OM  >•»«*'  an  to 


TWENTY    niLLIO^S.  —»i-^    k-*-,*- 

««*•«•  k;«i  ill  w<«  iOT« 

•■•^  ••"••  Amount  WnlCh    ^.,,„t,^  i^  ,^  )    »;   ■  ^  4r*rw«^    TW  ■••••..■t  »r»  vtU   W<*  ■ 

tiw  Kloadik*  WW  Pro-  r.f  '^T  •"^'^•"  'T.'*^.  7"'^jrf  "T1V2::  * 

^^■ikala^  4>*B«t   aka  kr«Ma  Ikry   has  Itaa  tmtmj  kaa  «aa«   aia 


stt>re  at  eijjht  that  even  in  ji^.  Lonjj:  before  the  appointed 
time  the  crowd  bejjan  to  secure  places  around  a  jj«H>ds 
box  that  had  been  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 
By  eij;ht  o'clock  fully  five  hundred  in-ople  had  gathered. 
Pn)mptly  at  the  hour  the  New  York  7/wis  man  and 
*' Judge"  Miller,  a  lawyer  from  San  Francisco,  came 
down  the  street  with  another  crowd  at  their  heels,  and 
pu.shed  inside  the  ring.  The  Judge,  who  had  l>een 
chosen  as  having  a  go<Kl  voice,  wearing  a  cowboy 
hat,  m<»unted  the  box.  There  was  a  breathless  silence 
as,  after  making  one  or  two  opening  remarks  to  make 
himself    feel    at    home,  the  Judge  oi>ened  the   paper — 

•M3 


Q 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

a  Sv-attle  daily  of  two  weeks  previ- 
ous. Clear  and  distinct  came  the 
words:  "Dewey's  Great  Victory. 
Tlie  S[)ani>h  Fleet  Annihilated!*' 
There  was  a  moment's  silence, 
when  a  cheer  broke  out  from  five 
hundred  throats,  and  arms  and 
hats  were  waved  in  the  air.  When 
the  reader  could  begin  again,  and 
read  something  alxuit  the  English 
captain  telling  the  Cierman  admi- 
ral "Hands  off!"  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  crowd  knew  no  l)ounds. 

They  cheered  and  cheered,  de- 
manding every  item  of  news  re- 
lating to  our  preparations  for  the 
war  that  evidently  was  on.  That 
night  hardly  anything  else  was 
talked  about.  Ne.xt  day  another 
pajK-r  was  found,  and  as  s<K>n  as  it 
was  known  a  crowd  started  down 
the  street  for  the  Alaska  Commer- 
cial  C<»mpany*s  store  like  a  lot  of 
sch<K)ll)oys,  calling  out  "Miller? 
Miller!"  Xow  for  the  first  time 
we  heard  of  the  preliminary  move- 
ments of  the  Atlantic  fleets;  our 
unpreparedness  for  the  war;  the 
iKimbardment  of  San  Juan;  the 
sad  mishap  t»)  the  ll'/fis/ow.  A 
third  pai>er  gave  us  details  of  the 
fight  at  Manila.  Again  and  again 
the  reader  paused  for  the  cheers 
of  the  crowd  as  the  graphic  story 


.9 
i  5 

r 


i    af 

ii 

i!  o 


*  1  .  J. J 


it%i 


illU^T: 


i 


am 


ll 


CELEBRATING    FOURTH    OF    JULY 

of  the  battle  was  told.  When  that  part  was  rcache(1 
where  the  Spanish  captain  nailed  his  colors  to  the  mast 
and  his  brave  men  kept  firinj;  as  the  ship  sank  beneath 
the  waves,  there  was  a  dead  silence.  Then  several  low 
voices  sai<l/'They  were  all  riy;ht !  They  were  all  right !" 
There  was  not  a  man  in  the  crowd  but  whose  heart  was 
touched,  and  it  would  not  have  been  hard  just  then  to 
have  raised  a  cheer  for  the  men  who  could  fight  like  that. 

Immediately  after  this  the  two  newspaper  plants  were 
in  operation,  and  there  were  no  more  public  readings  un- 
til the  22i\  of  July,  when  papers  arrived  with  accounts  of 
the  destruction  of  Cervera's  fleet  on  July  3. 

The  first  newspapers  with  war  news  brought  whatever 
was  asked.  As  it  was  known  the  news  was  for  public 
reading,  their  owners  did  not  make  exorbitant  demands, 
the  highest  price  I  knew  of  being  $1.  In  April  sixteen 
hundred  newspapers, all  several  months  old,  were  brought 
in  by  dog  teams  and  sold  U^r  $1  each.  The  new-comers 
brought  boatloads  of  all  the  prominent  daily,  weekly. 
and  monthly  periodicals;  magazines  sold  for  $1  and 
newspapers  for  25  cents. 

It  sounded  strangely  out  of  place,  in  this  erstwhile 
wilderness,  to  hear  the  newsboy,  walking  up  and  down 
the  street,  with  a  bunch  of  papers  in  his  arms,  shouting 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,**  Springfield  AV/z/AZ/iv///,  IViroit 
Fnr  Prcss^  Chicago  Times- Herald^  Omaha  />*<<•,  Kansas 
City  Star—d\\  the  daily  papers!'*  even  though  they  were 
from  three  weeks  to  a  month  old. 

The  Americans,  who  comprised  the  bulk  of  the  i^>pu- 
lation,  felt  proud  of  Dewey's  victory  ;  but  hardly  any 
one  was  prepared  for  what  happened  at  just  one  min- 
ute past  twelve  on  the  morning  of  July  4th.  At  that 
time  night  and  day  were  so  near  alike  that  half  of  Daw- 
son was  awake  and  up.     At  one  minute  past  midnight 

42s 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

a  rifle  cracked  out  on  the  hill  side.  Within  the  next 
minute  a  dozen  shots  followed,  here  and  there  over  the 
cam{).  In  five  minutes  five  thousand  guns  and  revolvers 
were  makinjja  steacly  roar — banj;!  banj;!  bang!  Every- 
botly  else  then  remembered  that  it  was  the  Fourth  of 
July — and  what  an  uproar !  The  street  was  soon  filled  with 
men  whooping  and  emptying  revolvers,  shot-guns,  and 
rifles.  The  tlogs,  in  alarm  at  the  uproar,  began  running 
with  ears  straight  back  and  tails  between  their  legs,  as  if 
distracted.  They  ran  into  pei^ple,  or  into  each  other,  un- 
til, with  the  jumping,  howling,  yelling,  and  sh(K3ting,  it 
ltx>ked  and  sounded  as  if  pandemonium  were  let  loose. 
The  police  at  the  barracks  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  I 
afterwards  heard  one  of  them  laughingly  say  he  didn't 
know  but  that  the  Americans  had  begun  to  carry  out 
their  one-time  threat  of  rebelling.  However,  when  they 
remembered  it  was  the  national  holiday,  the  cornet- 
bugler  gave**  Yankee  l>«Kxlle/*  ** America," and  the  **Star- 
Spangle<I  Banner."  In  the  aflerntMin  the  local  town  banti, 
made  up  of  theatre  orchestras,  returned  the  com{)liment 
by  a  serenade.  The  dogs  kept  on  running  whichever  way 
they  hapi)ened  to  be  started.  Several  plunged  into  the 
Yukon,  and  it  was  days  before  their  owners  got  many 
of  them  back. 

During  midsummer  four  variety  theatres  were  run- 
ning, with  the  usual  adjuncts  of  bars  and  gamt)ling 
lay-outs.  They  were  respectively  the  **  Pavilion," 
*•  Monte  Carlo,"  **  Ma.s<r>t,"  and  ** Combination."  The 
la.st  named  was  a  wo<Klen  building,  but  the  rest  were 
simply  tent.s.  The  entrance  to  all  was  through  the  bar- 
rcx>m,  but  at  the  Monte  Carlo  there  was  an  additional 
bar  inside  the  theatre  f«»r  the  greater  convenience  of 
the  patrons.  The  stage  was  commmlious,  and  in  S(3me 
there  was  real  painted  scenery,  but  io  others  the  **  sce- 

436' 


A    KLOXDIKI-:    TIIHATRK 


ncry  *'  rotisistod  solely  «>f  a  screen  of  striped  bed-tirkinjj 
or  similar  ji^ockIs,  whirh  was  also  used  abundantly  for 
wall  coverings.  The  audience  were  seated  on  boards 
placed  on  st<M)ls;  but  "  Hhlorado  kinj^s,"  jjovernment 
orticials,  and  other  "dead  ^ame  sj>orls'*  "spending  their 


'■K4 


IIIK   "COMBINATION    '   TIIKAIRE   AND   PANCKHALL 

money,"  occupied  "boxes'*  on  one  or  both  sides  of  the 
pit,  and  raised  sufficiently  to  allow  the  mcupants,  wh<» 
sat  ujxjn  hand-made  Ix^ard  st'Kils,  to  see  over  the  heads 
of  the  ci»mmon  herd.  The  price  of  admission  was  50 
cents  (includinjj  cij^ar  or  drink)  in  all  but  the  "Com- 
bination." where  it  was  $1.  For  the  boxes  there  was  no 
extra  fixed  charge,  but  occupants  of  such  were  expecte<I 
to  receive  female  members  of  the  troupe,  or  any  lady 
friends  they  themselves  mii;ht  choose  to  brinj;  in,  to 
help  them  dispose  of  champavjne,  which  varied  in  price 
from  $40  a  quart  to  $40  a  pint.  At  the  o|>eninv:  of  the 
**  Monte  Carlo  "  one  man  spent  $1 700  for  wine  during  one 

4:17 


THE    KLONDIKi:    STAMPHDIC 

night.  The  same  evening  two  girls  opened  forty-eight 
b<3ttles  of  wine,  receiving  ijli  commission  on  each  lx»ttlc. 
The  orchestra  consisted  usually  of  piano,  violin,  trom- 
bone, and  cornet,  and  musicians  were  each  paid  $jo  a 
day.  The  actors  and  actresses  received  various  salaries, 
$150  a  week  prevailing.  At  the  *' Monte  CarU)"  jrjrls  for 
the  "grand  balls"  after  each  night's  performance  were 
specially  employed  at  $50  per  week  and  commissions. 
The  running  exj)enses  of  the  latter  place  were  $500  a  day. 
The  show  was  a  succession  of  vaudeville  parts,  inter- 
spersed with  impromptu  local  sketches,  which  were 
changed  each  week.  Some  of  the  performers,  who  came 
out  of  English  and  American  concert-halls,  gave  a  fair- 
ly good  performance  ;  while  their  impromptu  jibes  and 
horse-pranks  would  convulse  the  audience,  who  were 
never  over-critical,  for  whom  the  humor  could  not  be 
too  broad  for  them  to  relish,  and  who  never  tired  of  the 
same  performances  night  after  night.  Many<»f  the  songs 
turned  on  something  of  Uxral  interest,  as  "Christmas  in 
the  Klondike,"  or  **  The  Klondike  Millionaire,"  and  when 
sung  by  Freddy  Breen,  "the  Irish  Comedian,"  sounded 
not  badly,  but  when  committed  to  paper  were  the  veriest 
doggerel.  Of  the  female  vocalists,  with  one  or  two  e.x- 
ceptions,the  less  said  the  better.  Untrained,  never  even 
second  rate,  at  times  they  sadly  tried  even  the  patient 
Klondike  audience.  As  the  old  pirate  at  the  Admiral 
^<*^^i/Xi' used  to  sing  : 

*•  Sixteen  men  on  a  dead  man's  chest. 
Yo  ho,  ho,  and  a  bottle  of  rum. 
Drink  and  the  devil  had  done  for  the  rest, 
Yo  ho,  ho,  and  a  bottle  of  rum." 

Besides  the  Jesuits  already  spoken  of,  several  religious 
bodies  established  missions  for  work  among  the  miners. 

4^8 


RELIGIOUS    WORK 

The  Presbyterians,  under  Rev.  Hall  Vounjj,  built  a  church 
in  the  fall  of  1.S97,  the  upper  story  uf  which  was  cut  into 
rooms  and  rented  to  lodyjers,  but  it  was  destroyed  early 
in  the  winter  by  fire.  The  Church  of  Hnjjland,  under 
Rev.  R.  G.  Bowen,  built  a  church  in  the  summer  t»f  189S. 
The  Christian-Endeavorers  and  the  familiar  Salvation 
Army  held  daily  meeting  in  the  open  during  the  sum- 
mer. The  attendance  at  the  missions  seemed  st)  small 
in  so  large  a  population  as  that  of  Dawson  as  to  incline 
one  to  the  prevailing  opinion  that  among  miners  of  the 
class  of  whom  pri>si>ectors  are  made  religious  work  finds 
not  much  place,  unless  accompanied  by  work  for  their 
physical  as  well  as  moral  well-being. 

The  benevolent  societies,  such  as  the  Masons.  Odd- 
Fellows,  etc.,  were  organized  by  Col«)nel  O.  V.  Davis, 
of  Tacoma,  Washington,  and  the  government  presented 
them  with  a  plot  of  ground  upon  which  they  built  a 
40X40-foot  **  Society  Hall"  of  logs.  Many  destitute 
men  were  cared  for  by  these  societies.  One  case  par- 
ticularly drew  my  attention,  for  it  was  a  fair  sample  of 
what  straits  a  man  might  be  in  who  had  property  out- 
side, but  was  '*  broke  "  or  without  friends  here.  He;  was 
an  old  man,  a  Mason,  worth  $20,000  in  property  outside, 
yet  abs4)lutely  penniless.    The  Masons  paid  his  way  home. 

As  had  been  predicted,  the  town  was  in  a  terrible 
sanitary  condition.  There  was  no  drainage,  and,  except 
by  giving  warning  about  cessp<x>ls,  the  government 
did  nothing  but  provide  /r^v  public  conveniences,  en- 
tirely inadequate  for  a  town  of  nearly  20.000.  Fortu- 
nately good  drinking-water  was  had  at  several  springs. 
Still,  as  could  not  be  otherwise  in  a  city  built  upon  a 
bog,  by  midsummer  the  hospital  was  filled  to  overflow- 
ing, men  were  lying  on  the  flo<jr,  and  there  were  many  in 
cabins,  suffering  from  typhoid  fever,  typhoid  -  malaria, 

429 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDIC 

and  dysentery.  The  number  of  deaths  were  three  to 
four  a  day,  in  one  day  reachinj;^  a  total  of  nine.  At  this 
juncture,  when  the  amount  of  sickness  had  become  a 
cause  for  jjeneral  alarm,  tlie  Canadian  iloctors,  who  were 
greatly  outnum!>ered  by  American,  bei^an  prostcuti<ms 
against  the  latter,  and  several  of  the  hij^hest  standing, 
but  who  had  come  unprovided  with  licenses  to  practise 
in  Canada,  were  haled  before  the  mav^istrate,  jailed,  and 
fined.  While  Americans  shouKl  have  expected  this,  it 
was  admitted  by  m(»st  persons  that  a  more  unfortunate 
moment  for  the  prosecutions  could  hardly  have  been 
chosen.  The  American  physicians  continued  practis- 
injj,  however,  without  sij^ns  or  askinjx  fees.  In  all  there 
were  alxiut  .seventy  physicians  in  the  camp,  oidy  a  few 
of  whom,  however,  found  lucrative  practice.  In  Aujj^ust 
another  htjspital,  '*The  (Jood  Samaritan,"  was  established, 
with  a  I«>cal  board  of  directors,  the  government  contrib- 
uting $5000  towards  its  maintenance. 

I  jotleil  into  my  note-lKHjk,  among  mid  items,  that  the 
first  cat  and  kittens  in  the  Yukon  arrived  in  August, 
and  the  kittens  sold  for  $5  to  $10  each.  Al>out  a  do/en 
horses,  brought  uj)  from  Forty-Mile  and  Circle,  hati  win- 
tered, being  kept  in  stove-warmed  tents  and  feci  chiefly 
upon  native  hay  that  c<»st  $500  to$i2cx>  per  ton.  Several 
hundred  m4>re  horses  and  mules  came  in  on  scows,  until 
they  became  too  common  to  notice  particularly.  Many 
beeves,  including  one  herd  of  a  thousanil.  were  driven  in 
over  the  Dalton  Trail  ;  luit  the  arrival  of  the  lirst  milch 
c»>w,  however,  that  ever  came  into  the  Vuk«Mi,  ami  lier 
first  milking,  wereduly  recorded  as  follows  ifi  the  X/txii^^t/ 
of  July  8th:  " 

-THIRTY  IX)LL.AKS  A  ii.ALLoN 
"The  first   milk  cow  ever  in  Daws^in  arrived   on  Wednesday 
She  is  not  ver\'  well  pleased  with   her  surroiuKlini^s  and  did  not 

4>> 


MILK    $30    A    GALLOX 

give  murh  milk,  but  thai  first  milkinj;  brought  in  just  $30  in 
Klon<like  du<»t.  Slic  will  \tc  treated  to  the  best  that  Dauson 
atlords— fluur  and  packing-case  hay— and  is  exjKxted  to  do  Ixiter 
as  the  day*  grow  shorter.  One  hundred  dt)llars  a  milking  is  not 
tt)o  much  to  expect  of  her.  as  she  comes  of  go<Kl  family  and  will 
not  do  anything  to  make  her  ancestors  turn  over  in  their  graves 
— or,  more  properly  sp>caking.  in  the  stomachs  of  their  jxitrons. 
II.  I.  Miller  is  the  man  who  brought  her  in  along  with  i«>  male 
companions.  The  gentleman  is  more  favorably  known  as  "  Cow" 
.Miller,  and  as  Cow  .Miller  let  him  be  known  from  this  on." 

Before  the  new.spapers  startetl,  and  even  afterwards, 
notices  of  buying  and  sellin;^.  meetings,  and  lost  and 
found,  were  |>osted  u\Mm  the  bulletin  -  l>oards  at  the 
Alaska  Commercial  Company's  store.  Of  the  curi«»us 
signs  that  ap|)eared  there  from  time  to  time  the  foll«»\v- 
ing  is  remarkable,  as  showing  an  imusuai  confulence  in 
human  honesty: 

-NOTICE 

Lost 

June  24  1S9S  about  11  at  night  a  gold  sack  containing  all  a  poor 
woman  had  :  ttetwecn  old  man  Buck  (Choquette)  cabin  and  small 
t>oard  llou!t4r  selling  Lemonade  upon  bank  of  the  Troandike 
River  any  pcmtn  finding  same  will  confer  a  verry  great  favor  a 
poor  woman  who  is  sick  and  must  go  out.  she  made  Her  Dust 
by  washing  and  mending  a  Liberal  reward  will  be  j>aid  by  tn- 
quiring  at  Ferry  Beer  Saloon  at  Lrmsetown  Bridge." 


CHAPTER    XXI 


Gvvernment  in  the   KI«>n«Iike — Mining    Laws— Incunnxrience  anJ  Cor- 
ruption of  OtficiaU — The   Royalty    Tax — Collecting  the   Koyalti< 
Investigation  of  Charges— An  Orilcrly  Mining  Camp 


D 


URINTi  the  winter  of  1897-8  only  ten 
percent,  of  the  population  «)f  Dawson 
were  Canadians;  a  considerable  per- 
centage were  of  Enjjlish  birth,  but  the 
overwhelming  majority  were  Americans, or 
foreigners  who  had  lingere<l  in  the  United 
States  long  enough  to  imbibe  American 
ideas.  In  the  crowd  which  ptjured  in  later 
the  percentage  of  Canadian  citizens,  or  British  subjects, 
was  probably  still  smaller.  These  people  under  United 
States  law  would  have  had  the  making  of  their  own  laws, 
subject  only  to  broad  statutory  limitations.  Indeed,  with 
reference  to  Alaska,  non-interference  with  liberty  by 
the  centra!  government  has  been  but  an<»ther  name  for 
neglect. 

In  the  Klondike,  those  who  best  knew  the  country's 
neetls  had  no  voice  whatever  in  its  government  ;  all  laws 
were  made  at  Ottawa,  and  those  sent  out  to  enforce  them 
were  responsible  only  to  the  home  government,  or  to  the 
officials  to  whom  they  owed  their  apjwjintmcnt.  Dawson 
was  an  "alien"  camp,  where,  if  the  p<^)siti<)n  of  the  ma- 
jority of  the  residents  was  ditferent  from  the  "Ouit- 
lander"  at  Johannesburg,  it  was  only  that  the  laws  were 


GOVERNMENT 

///  inti'Ht  m(»re  li!)cral.  Distant  weeks  and  months  from 
the  seat  of  responsibility,  it  is  not  ilirtieuli  l«»  umlerstaml 
how,  even  if  jjovernment  intemled  well,  the  e»»ndition  of 
the  miner  mij^ht  be  seareely  l>etter  than  that  of  his  un- 
fortunate confrere  in  the  \\^^x  republic.  In  fact,  condi- 
tions which  actually  prevailed  at  I)aws<»n  were  likeneil  l)y 
British  citizens  <lirect  from  the  Transvaal  as  even  worse 
than  what  thev  left. 

The  natural  ditliculties  that  stcMnl  in  the  way  of  put- 
ting into  immediate  operation  an  effective  j^overnment 
were  so  great  that  one  should  not  judge  the  Klondikers 
too  harshly.  On  the  other  hand,  if  there  were  not  seri- 
ous dis<»rders  it  was  due  less  t*>  the  quality  of  govern- 
ment than  to  the  orderly  character  «»f  the  [nipulation, 
and  to  the  fact  that  men  were  there  enduring  the  priva- 
tions of  an  Arctic  climate  to  make  their  fortunes  and 
get  away,  not  to  help  set  \x\  order  the  {K>litical  house- 
holds of  their  Canadian  friends. 

The  mounted  |H»lice,  lx>th  ofHcers  and  men,  in  their 
capacity  as  preservers  of  ortler  and  as  indivi<luals,  com- 
manded the  respect  of  every  miner.  Captain  Constan- 
tine,  uj)on  his  departure  from  l>awst>n,  received  a  tes- 
timonial in  the  form  of  two  thousand  clollars*  worth  of 
nuggets,  which  were  subsecpiently  m;ule  up  in  their  nat- 
ural form  into  a  lH*autiful  loving-cup,  to  show  how  the 
miners  felt  at  a  time  when  almost  every  branch  of  the 
public  service  had  forfeited  their  contklence.  It  seems* 
to  be  a  well-ordered  Canatlian's  belief  that  an  "official," 
whether  a  |H>liceman  or  a  land-surveyor,  is  qualihed,  by 
reason  of  being  an  orticial,  to  till  any  post  under  govern- 
ment. 

The  police,  instead  of  trained  mail-clerks,  were  given 
the  work  of  handling  the  mails.     Provoking  slowness  in 
the  transmissit»n  and  delivery  resulted  from  their  inex- 
2E  433 


THK    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

perience  and  lark  of  system.  Often  it  retjr.ired  a  week 
to  sort  a  mail.  Those  who  had  money  to  spare  preferred 
to  pay  $1  a  letter  to  a  |M)liceman  to  ^et  his  mail  after 
hours,  or  else  employed  women,  who,  iR'ini:^  j^allantly  ad- 
mitted, at  onec  could  get  it  for  them. 


(;4»Vk.K.NMENr    lit  IL1>IN(;S.   DAWSON — ktCoRDlNG   ILAIMS 


The  size  of  creek  claims,  at  the  time  of  the  Klondike 
strike,  was  five  hundred  feet  lony^  by  the  width  of  the 
valley;  all  nther  claims  being  one  hundred  feet  scpiare. 
The  miner  was  retpiired  to  mark  each  corner  of  his  claim 
with  a  stake  four  feet  high,  s<piaring  not  less  than  four 
inches,  and  u|)on  one  face  of  each  stake  to  write  the 
number  of  the  claim  and  the  W(>rds:  **  I  claim  five  hun- 
dred (or  fewer)  feet  up  (or  down)  stream  for  mining 
purposes.  (Signed)  John  Smith."  After  making  affi- 
davit of  discovery  t)f  gold,  and  paying  $15  to  the  (loUl 
Commissioner,  he  received  a  lease  for  one  year,  renew- 
able each  subsequent  year  at  an  annual  rental  of  $100. 

4i4 


MINING    LAWS 

All  disputes  were  settled  by  this  ofhcer,  who  was  account- 
able only  to  tlie  Minister  of  the  Interior,  antl  jx>ssessed 
arbitrary  powers  without  ap|>eal.  At  first  the  laws  antl 
the  manner  t)f  enforcement,  although  necessitating  lony^ 
journeys  to  the  seat  of  the  recorder,  ^ave  general  satis- 
faction to  the  small,  scattered  mininj;  population.  P>ut 
when  the  news  of  the  discovery  of  Bonanza  Creek  reached 
Ottawa,  the  Dominion  cabinet,  in  ignorance  of  the  true 
conditions,  passed  an  ** Order  in  Council"  reducing  the 
size  of  all  new  creek  claims  to  one  hundred  feet,  rescrv- 
injj  each  alternate  claim  for  the  crown,  and  imposing  a 
royalty  of  twenty  per  cent,  on  the  gross  output  of  claims 
pro4lucing  over  $500  per  day,  and  ten  per  rent,  on  all 
claims  prmlucinj^  less  than  that  amount.  When  news 
of  this  mexsure,  only  etpialled  by  the  recent  war-tax  <»f 
the  Boers,  reached  Dawson,  a  mass-meeting  of  the  miners 
was  held,  and  a  committee  of  three,  consisting  of  Messrs. 
M.  Landreville,  a  miner;  E<Iward  J.  Livernash,a  lawyer, 
and  Dr.  E.  A.  Wills,  a  surgeon  in  the  nn)unted  iK»lice, 
was  appointeil  to  carry  to  Ottawa  a  petition  fur  the  re- 
duction or  al)olition  of  the  royalty. 

So  great  was  the  outcry  in  Canada,  however,  that  Ik^- 
fore  the  ctunmittee  reached  Ottawa  the  cabinet  made 
haste  to  remedv  its  blunder,  and  bv  "Order  in  Council," 
approved  January  i«,  1S9S,  reduced  the  royalty  to  ten 
per  cent.,  deducting  the  sum  of  $2500  (a  ridiculous 
amount)  from  the  gross  output  to  cover  the  cost  of 
working!  Creek  claims  were  increased  to  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  in  length,  to  be  staked  in  bUnks  of  ten 
claims  each,  alternate  bk>^ks  of  ten  l>eing  reserved  f«»r 
the  crown.  Bench  claims  adjoining  creek  claims  were 
made  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide  by  one  thousand 
feet  deep,  all  other  claims  l)eing  two  hundred  and  fifty 
feet   square.     Before   a   miner  could   stake  a  claim    or 

435 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 


perform  any  work  in  connection  with  mininjj,  except 
buying  stock  in  stock  companies,  he  was  required  to  take 
out  a  **  f rec  miner's"  license  at  a  cost  of  $io.  If  a  dis- 
covery distant  m«)re  than  one  hundred  miles  fmm  the 
seat  of  the  recorder  was  made  by  live  or  more  persons, 

DOMINION  ^Mi  o^  CANADA 


^i 


FRCC    MINER'S   CERTIFICATE. 


Pukcsor 


.^,*  »i-j  r»w.     '    ".JT"^**"^ 

Q^iis  is  tM  (JJertifj  ^iSuL^  Zy-^ 


'K^y 


3».^ 


Vmjo  rem  0«c  Vsa«  om^v. 


jLt/UUmi,  ^  «<^  <^ 


^^  9«Ttif|Cai«  .U»^»^  ^tmm/ A^  4£.  Z««^  //^^U.  /u.^^  ^^:fJZ.y  m^U 


nxE  miner's   LICF.N-SR 

they  might  appoint  a  temporary  rec<^rder  among  their 
own  rumiber.  While  the  law  retpiired  the  "gum -boot" 
miner  to  stake  /// /<Tjr/'//,  so-called  "dredging  permits," 
in  five-mile  blocks,  were  granted  over  fifteen  hundred 
miles  of  Klondike  and  Yukon  streams  to  men  wh«>,  for  the 
most  part,  had  never  seen,  nor  intended  to  see,  the  Yukon. 
Such,  in  brief,  are  the  regulations  now  in  force,  whii  h 
further  provide  for  the  sale  of  timber-berths  to  private 

436 


THE    GOLD    COMMISSIONER 

parties,  whereby  miners  are  virtually  prevented  from 
cutting  wood,  even  for  their  own  use,  e.\cc[)t  on  such 
terms  as  the  monopolists  concede.  The  tendency  of  the 
new  lej;islati<m  is  against  the  "gum-boot  '*  miner,  the 
man  whose  enterprise,  labors,  and  hardships  have  made 
for  Canada  all  that  is  worth  while  in  the  Klondike  to- 
day. This  is  always  the  inevitable  trend,  but  never  in 
any  camp  has  so  much  lK*en  done  in  so  short  a  time  in 
that  direction  as  in  the  Canadian  camp.  The  (lold 
Commissioner,  Mr.  Thomas  Fawcett,  came  in  for  some 
censure  for  what  his  su|>eriors  were  alone  to  blame  for. 
Yet  a  position  calling  for  judicial,  legislative,  and  execu- 
tive c|ualities  of  a  high  order  should  have  been  tilled  by 
a  man  jxissessing  other  qualifications  than  personal  hon- 
esty and  fair  ability  as  a  topographical  surveyor. 

The  commissit>ner  arrived  at  Dawson  in  the  summer  of 
1897,  and  established  an  office  in  a  small  cabin  with  a  single 
nH»m,and  with  two  assistants  began  receiving  applications 
for  claims.  The  rush  to  record  became  so  great  that,  in 
tirder  to  comply  with  the  law  limiting  the  time  in  which  a 
miner  had  to  record  after  staking,  the  wh»le  staff  were 
kept  busy  during  office  hours»  which  were  strictly  from 
9  A.M.  to  5  P.M.  The  registry  books,  or  copies  thereof, 
which  elsewhere  in  Canada  are  considered  public  prop- 
erty, were  not  accessible  to  the  public,  and  the  clerks 
were  quick  to  take  advantage  of  this  stale  of  affairs  to 
begin  a  ** side-door"  business,  selling  to  individuals,  for 
cash  or  interests  in  claims,  information  of  unrecorded 
claims.  Afterwards,  emboldened  by  the  impotency  of 
the  commissioner  to  correct  these  abuses,  favored  ones 
began  to  be  admitted  during  office -hours,  upon  passes. 
and  recorded  claims  ahead  of  men  who  had  been  wait- 
ing often  for  days  in  line  outside.  It  l)ecame  fccognized 
by  every  one  who  was  obliged  to  deal  with  the  office 

437 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMIMCDE 

that  the  only  way  of  getting  even  what  belonged  to  liitn 
was  to  bribe  an  ofticial.  Appeal  to  the  (lold  Conin)issi«»n- 
er  was  as  likelv  as  not  met  with  dismissal  in  an  arbitrarv, 
unjust, or  illegal  manner.  During  the  greater  part  of  the 
rush  there  was  no  one  to  verify  measurements  of  claims 
(only  survey  by  Dominion  land  surveyors  being  recog- 
nizetl  officially).  The  commissioner  was  in  ignorance  of 
the  location  and  identity  of  creeks  ;  he  would  give  two  dif- 
ferent names  to  the  same  creek,  not  knowing  them  to  be 
the  same;  he  would  grant  the  same  claim  to  ditlerent 
men, and  yet  refuse,  when  the  fact  was  proven,  to  refund 
the  rect>rd  fee  to  one  of  them  ;  he  alloweil  /:co  tliscoveries 
on  one  creek,  ai  d  claims  became  so  mixed,  in  c<insequence 
of  overlapping  tK*tween  discoveries,  that  he  was  obliged 
tocK>se  the  creek,  to  the  great  loss  of  miners,  who  were 
not  allowed  to  record  (pending  arrival  of  official  sur- 
veyors), and  who  were  holding  the  claims  in  person,  in 
compliatice  with  the  mining  law.  Thus,  l>etween  the  in- 
competency of  the  commissioner  and  the  corruf)tion  of 
his  clerks,  legitimate  business  came  almost  ti>  a  stand- 
still. The  general  law  of  Canada,  providing  that  no 
person  should  suffer  from  the  incompetency  of  an  official, 
was  of  no  effect  to  .the  poor  miner,  who  had  neither 
money  nor  time  to  obtain  the  remedy. 

In  February  two  **  Ins[>ectorsof  Mines,"  a  Crown  Prose- 
cuting Attorney,  and  Lands  Agent  (the  la>t  two  in  one 
person),  and  a  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  North- 
west Territories,  arrived  in  Dawson.  The  judge,  the 
Hon.  Thomas  IL  Mc(iuire,  entered  u{K)n  his  duties  at 
once,  largely  relieving  the  police  magistrates,  and  i)er- 
formed  his  duties  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  entire  cam[>. 
Concerning  the  rest,  so  much  can  hardly  be  said.  The 
Crown'Attorney,a '*P<H)h-Bah  "  in  fact,  leased  the  water- 
front  to   private   parties,  by    whom    he   was   employed 

438 


INCOMPETENT    OFFICIALS 

in  a  private  capacity  as  legal  adviser;  and  !>y  various 
acts  as  Crown  Attorney,  Lands  Aj;ent,  private  praeti- 
tioner,  and  by  his  overbearing  and  threatening^  conduct 
towards  his  critics,  aroused  a  c^eneral  belief  that  he  was 
using  his  official  powers  to  further  his  private  interests. 
The  mining  inspectors  had  only  such  previous  experiefice 
in  mining  as  they  may  have  acipiiretl  as  a  h(»rse  tlealer 
and  an  uncertificated  master  of  a  whaling  vessel,  re- 
spectively. 

Major  Walsh,  the  governor  or  administrator  of  the 
"Provisional  District  of  the  Yukon,"  as  the  territory 
was  officially  known,  tlid  not  arrive  until  summer.  Final- 
ly, mass-meetings  of  outraged  and  indignant  citizens  were 
held  in  the  streets,  under  the  leadership  of  Engli>hmen 
and  Canadians,  to  protest  against  the  mining  laws  and 
officials. 

The  Miners*  Association,  organized  for  self-protection, 
with  George  T.  Armstrong  and  Dr.  Percy  McDougal, 
both  British  citizens,  resfxectively  as  chairman  and  secre- 
tary, ap[»ealed  to  C)ttawa  for  a  parliamentary  investiga- 
tion of  affairs  in  the  Yukon.  Meanwhile,  on  May  27th. 
the  **  Yukon  Territory"  had  been  created,  with  the  Hon. 
William  Ogilvie  as  Governor,  and  a  council  of  six.  The 
appeal  went  out  late  in  the  fall ;  six  months  later  a  Royal 
Commission  was  despatched,  naming  Mr.  Ogilvie  as  Com- 
missioner. The  guileless  miners,  who  UM)ked  for  a  clear 
investigation  from  top  to  bottom,  were  sadly  disapiH>inted. 
The  investigation  was  one  of  accused  officials  by  them- 
selves. Although  conducted  with  impartiality,  the  miners 
found  simply  a  court  before  which  they  were  litigants. 
The  investigation  was  limited  to  specific  charges  men- 
tioned in  the  ap{)eal,  and  to  none  others.  Many  of  the 
officials  and  witnesses  had  left,  and  the  miners  were  nt>t 
permitted  to  bring  into  court  cases  (they  were  daily  hap- 

439 


THE    KLOXDIKi:    STAMPKDE 

pening)  that  occurred  after  the  seiulinjj  of  the  petition. 
Ade<|uate  protection  was  not  granted  witnesses,  nor  was 
there  any  provision  to  [)ay  the  expenses  of  those  who, 
working  many  miles  off  in  the  mines,  could  not  lose 
days  or  weeks  of  time  in  Dawson  to  testisy  during  the 
investigation  without  some  compensation.  The  miners, 
perceiving  that  the  investigation  could  not  accomplish 
their  purpose,  virtually  gave  up  the  fight.  The  accusetl 
officials  were  exonerated,  exce[)t  certain  persons  con- 
nected with  the  Gold  Commissioner's  Otlice,  who  were 
proven  to  have  taken  bribes  and  deprived  rightful 
owners  of  their  claims. 

Mr.  Ogilvie,  who  is  regarded  as  a  conscientious  man, 
and  of  whom  much  was  expected  in  remedying  the  abuses, 
succeetled  only  to  a  small  extent.  When  the  matter  t)f 
incorporating  the  town  was  raisetl,  those  who  were  en- 
titled to  vote  in  Canada  were  unanimously  against  the 
officials,  and  could  not  agree  on  certain  important  points, 
so  Dawson  remains  a  city  where  citizens  have  practically 
no  voice  in  the  local  government. 

The  poli/:e  cx>ntrol  of  the  country  was  as  nearly  per- 
fect as  one  could  expect.  Thefts  and  misdemeanors 
were  numerous,  and  effectively  dealt  with,  and  one  or 
two  murder  cases  were  tried.  The  salo<jns  were  closed 
on  Sunday,  nor  was  any  labor  permitted  on  that  day. 
A  man  sawing  wood,  for  his  own  use,  and  another  en- 
gaged in  fishing  were  arrested.  No  city  on  the  conti- 
nent presented  a  more  orderly  appearance. 

To  appease  the  miners,  who  had  threatened  to  make 
trouble  if  a  policeman  should  be  detailed  to  watch  their 
clean-ups  when  collecting  the  royalty,  a  mining  inspector 
simply  accepted  the  affidavits  of  miners  as  to  their  out- 
puts.    In  cases  where  the  tax  bt>re  heavily,  the  royalty 

was  lowered  or    payment   was  temporarily  suspended. 

440 


YUKON    RKVKXrKS    AND    K  X  T  i:  X  S  K  S 

Among  those  so  relii'vcd  was  Alec  Mcr)()naM,  the  '*Kiii^ 
of  the  Klontlike."  Without  doubt  much  ^old  was  willi- 
hekl,althoujjh  the  penalty  for  so  doitijjj  was  c<)nHscalion 
of  the  claim.  A  sinj^ular  fact  regartlinvj  the  royalty  c«>l- 
lection  is  that  in  no  case  was  the  amt)unt  paid  as  royalty 
s|)eciHed  on  the  receipt.  The  same  was  true  of  custom 
receipts  on  the  trail.  Ab<3Ut  $500,000  was  received  in 
royalties.  The  total  revenue  derived  from  the  Vukt>n 
was  §1,530.000.  The  expenditure  was  $647,000.  leaving  a 
balance  of  $883,000  paid  by  the  miners  of  the  Yukon 
into  the  treasury  of  Canada,  or  a  tut  profit  of  alK)ut  $jo 
upon  every  man,  woman,  and  child  who  entered  Cana- 
dian territory. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Vegetation  and  Agricultural   rt»vNibiIities — Animal    Life — Hinls — Fi>h — 

Mo!i<|uitoe» — Native  Tribe* 


HE  great  territory  of  Alaska  and  the 
Yukon  is  diviiled  into  parts,  differing 
radically  in  general  features  of  climate 
and  vegetable  and  animal  life.  Along 
the  Pacitic  coast  both  rain  and  snow  fall 
are  great,  vegetation  is  luxurious,  and  the 
air  so  mild  that  in  summer  even  the  ten- 
der humming-bird  rinds  its  way  as  far 
north  as  Juneau.  The  interior,  however 
— comprising  the  valley  of  the  Yukon  and 
tributaries,  with  its  more  than  330,000  square  miles  of 
area — is  dry;  the  rainfall  is  small  and  the  temperature 
hot  in  summer;  in  winter  the  air  is  dry  and  excessively 
cold,  and  the  snowfall  is  light.  Vegetation  is  confined 
mainly  to  a  moss  which  covers  the  ground  to  a  varying 
thickness,  and  to  three  varieties  of  trees — spruce,  white 
birch,  and  a>ttonwood.  These  are  found  abundantlv 
from  the  lowest  valleys  to  the  tops  of  all  but  the  highest 
mountains.  In  the  flat  valleys  of  the  streams,  exposed  to 
the  rays  of  the  sun  and  with  plenty  of  water,  the  spruce 
grow  as  thickly  as  anywhere  in  the  world,  some  attaiii- 
ing  a  diameter  of  two  feet,  while  trees  a  foot  in  diameter 
are  common.  On  the  sides  of  hills,  however,  the  trees  be- 
come suddenly  stunted  in  a[)|>earance,  the  spruce  rarely 
.  443 


VK<;KTATI()X    and    AdRICrLTUKK 

cxceedinjij  a  few  inches  in  thickness,  hut  the  rinp;s  of 
jjjrowth  beinj;  as  thin  and  close  as  the  leaves  of  a  book. 
The  white  birch,  not  less  beautiful  here  than  st»ulhward, 
rarely  exceeds  eii^ht  inches  in  thickness  ;  the  cotton  wood 
attains  to  a  foot  in  ilianuter.  Willow  bushes  and  alder 
trees  are  found  in  the  moist  \..  :s.  and  l)erries  of  sev- 
eral jjround  ami  bojj  jjjrowinj;  si>ecies  are  found  i)ften 
in  y^reat  profusion,  and  there  arc  not  a  few  species  of 
wild  flowers,  anionj^  which  the  most  commcni  and  readily 
recoj^nized  is  a  i^olden-nnl  alH>ut  six  inches  in  heii;ht. 
Towards  the  mouth  of  the  Yukon  the  temperature  Ih!- 
comes  milder,and  grasses  j^row  luxuriantly  ;  but  the  trees 
^row  smaller,  until  the  characteristic  tree-clad  lantlsca|)e 
o(  the  Yukon  merges  into  a  bare.rollin^  /itut/ni,  or  frozen 
nn>rass,  skirting;  the  shores  of  Ikhrin^  Sea.  In  conse- 
(|uence  i»f  the  lon^  hours  of  sunshine,  j^arden  vej^etables, 
when  planted  on  hill -sides  exjH>seil  to  the  sun,  spring 
with  great  rapidity  out  of  the  fertile  soil.  Potatoes  are 
grown  to  a  weight  of  seven  or  eight  jx)unds,  turnips  six- 
teen i>ounds,  while  cabbages,  radishes,  etc.,  arc  reatlily 
raised.  The  larger  vegetables,  however,  are  coarse  in 
texture.  The  agricultural  |>ossibilities  of  the  Yukon  are 
greater  than  has  been  generally  sup{K)sed,  but  the  short 
summer  pr<>bably  will  not  allow  the  raising  of  cereals 
or  fruits  that  require  a  K»ng  season  to  ri[>en,  ami  it  will 
hardly  supiK)rt  an  imlependcnt  agricultural  jH>pulation. 
Several  small  vegetable  garilens  at  I)aws<»n  wereasi»urcc 
of  large  revenue  ti>  their  owners.  A  bunch  <»f  alnuit  six 
radishes,  each  no  larger  than  the  end  of  one's  thumb, 
readily  brought  $i  in  the  restaurants. 

Animal  life  in  the  Yukon  valley  is  not  so  varied  as 
farther  south,  but  its  si)ecies  are  im|x>rtant,  and  in  places 
exceedingly  abundant.  Easily  Hrst  is  the  moose.  This, 
the  grandest  of  the  deer  family,  is  found  in  the  whole 

443 


THE    KLOXDIKE    STAMIMCDK 

region  of   trees,  and   is   very  ahiindaiu   on    the   Klon- 
dike—  undoubtedly  nuuh    more  plentiful   tlian   in   any 
part  of  its  more  familiar  rani^^e  to  the  extreme  south 
ant!  eastward,     (^f  the  stature  of  the  tallest   horse,  it 
wanders  at  will  from  valley  to  niountain-top,  in  winter 
browsinij  u[K)n  the  tender  twiy^s  of  the  willow  and  white 
birch,  the  light  snow  not  im{)eding  its  movemeiUs  and 
causing  it  to  "  yard,"  as  farther  south.     In  summer  it  is 
hunted  by  lying  in  wait  for  it  at  paths  leading  to  certain 
lakes.     During  the  winter  of   1S97-S  probably  one  hun- 
dred and  Hfty  were  killed  around  Dawson  by  Indians  and 
white  men.     A  few  years  ago  moose-hams  could  be  pur- 
chased for  $;  each  ;  now  they  bring  $1  to  $1.50  per  pound, 
the  hides  I>eing  worth  $^5  to  $30  each  for  moccasins  and 
the  larger  gold -sacks.     The  mtx)se  of  the  extreme  west 
of  Alaska  has  lately  been  found  to  be  of  a  new  species, 
distinguished  chielly  for  its  great  size,  and  has  been  given 
the  name  o(  .l/irs  ^i^'/j^ds.     The  mo<»se  of  the  Klondike, 
when  specimens  have  been  examined  by  naturali>ts,  will 
probably   be  found  different   Ixjth  from  the  latter  and 
from  the  common  nKxjse,  .lAis  amiriniiia.     A  pair  of 
antlers,  respectively  4  feet  7  inches  and  4  feet  5  inches, 
evidenllv  l«x:ked  together  in  mortal  c«)mbat,  were  found 
on  Stewart  River  in  July,  1S9.S.     These,  though  not  large 
for  Alaskan  moose,  suthciently  indicate  what  a  struggle 
of  giants  had  taken  place  before  they  died  of  exhaustion 
or  were  pulle<l  down  by  wolves. 

The  WJXKlland  caribou  roams  as  far  north  as  \V\\:^ 
Salmon  River,  where  it  is  known  by  the  Taki>h  Ind- 
ians as  **Mut-siq."  North  of  there,  and  ranging  to 
the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean  and  Hehring  Sea,  is  the 
barren-ground  caribou,  or  wild  reindeer,  found  often  in 
immense  bands,  which  migrate  each  year  in  search  of  a 
peculiar  gray  moss  which  constitutes  their  fotxl.     The 


BIO    GAMI-: 

headwaters  of  Korty-Milc  and  of  Klondike  are  two  cen- 
tres of  great  abundance.  Several  years  avjo  three  hini- 
dred  were  killed  in  Forty-Mile  town.  Karly  the  past  fall 
two  white  men  on  the  upper  Klondike  killed  forty-seven, 
and  several  hunters  independently  rep*>rted  the  herd, 
which  was  then  chanijinvj  its  feediny^-^rounds,  as  number- 
invj  from  ten  to  twenty  thousand.  Ten  years  atjo  deer 
were  rejjarded  as  not  occurring  east  of  the  coast  m»>un- 


IXTKRL«K:KF.n   McH>>F.-IIORXS  FOl'ND  OX    STEWART   RIVtK 


tains;  but  at  the  Canyon,  at  Lake  Labarge,  and  near  I5ig 
Salmon  I  saw  numerous  unmistakable  "deer"  tracks  in 
the  mud  and  light  snow  that  could  hardly  have  been  any 
but  those  of  the  Sitka  deer. 

The  white  goat  is  found  in  the  ChilktH>t  Ab>untains 
and  northwanl  to  Lake  Labarge.  A  sjx'cies  of  m<»un- 
tain  sheep,  differing  from  the  Rocky  Mountain  bij^horn 
in  its  pelt  l)eing  w«>ollier  and  of  a  tliriy  white  color  (prob- 
ably **  Dall's  sheep  '^    has  been  killed  at  Fort  Reliance. 

44$ 


TIIS    KLOXDIKK    STAMIMCDK 

** Stone's  sheep,"  another  varitly  <>t  the  bii^horn.  discov- 
ered in  1896  on  the  St i keen  River,  may  also  l)e  t«»u nd  in 
the  Vuk«»n  Valley. 

Bears  are  plentiful  and  <>f  two  kinds  in  the  Vukon  :  a 
so-called  "j^riz/.ly,**  or  *' silver  tip,"  and  the  blaek  lH',\r, 
both  the  !)lack  and  *' einnainon  "  piiases  beini;:  found  to- 
jjether  The  eaches'of  the  lonely  pmspeetor  are  occa- 
sionally broken  into  by  jjjrizzlies,  and  on  the  upper  Klon- 
dike a  miner  was  killed  by  one.  In  the  early  summer, 
after  their  winter's  sleep,  black  bears  freijuent  the  ex- 
posetl  hill -sides,  dit^j^ini^  for  roots  and  old  berries.  A 
party  on  Stewart  River,  in  dcscendins^  that  river  forty 
miles  on  a  small  raft  in  1S9S,  killed  five. 

The  gray  or  timber  wolf  is  found  in  scattered  l)ands. 
They  feed  upon  the  m<M>se  and  caribou,  and  seMoni  at- 
tack miners.  Sometimes  they  attain  ijreat  size  and 
weight.  Mr.  J.  li.  Hurnham.  of  I-orisf  auti  Strmm,  capt- 
ured one  near  F«)rt  Selkirk  that  weighed  upwartls  of 
120  ptjunds.  A  hunter  on  the  u[)per  Klorulike  kilhd 
one,  ant!  obtained  from  the  carcase  nearly  a  ijiiart  of 
oil,  it  being  the  only  wolf,  the  liunter  told  me,  he  ever 
saw  that  had  any  fat  at  all.  I  s;iw  the  s|»ot  on  the 
Klondike  where  the  band  to  which  this  belonged  had 
attacked,  killetl,  and  devoured  a  m(H)se  onlv  a  few  davs 
before.  Two  apparently  distinct  kinds  are  met  with, 
rerognize<l  as  the  *'gray"  and  the  '*  black,"  but  they  are 
reganled  by  scientists  as  individual  variations  of  the 
same  species.  The  red  fox,  the  valuable  bla<'k  or  silver- 
gray  fox,  the  white  or  Arctic  fox,  the  cross  fox,  and  the 
blue  or  stone  ft)X  are  found  in  places  plentifully,  the  last 
three  being  conHned  ti>  the  shores  of  Ilehring  Sea. 

The  furs  {xu\w  the  Klondike  are  of  the  most  beautiful 
description,  rather  pale  in  color,  but  exceediivgly  hue. 
Beaver,  formerly  more  plentiful  than  now,  are  taken  by 

44^» 


SMALL    AXIMALS    AND    BIRDS 

the  Indians  with  a  harpoon  throujjh  a  hole  in  the  ice,  the 
spot  beinjj  baited  with  willow  twigs,  or  else  by  means  of 
a  peculiar  deadfall  of  p*>les  l)uilt  on  the  bank  near  their 
homes.  Muskrat  are  plentiful.  The  wolverine  (not  a 
**  wolf  "of  any  sort,  but  the  largest  of  the  weasels)  roams 
everywhere,  and  is  taken  in  dead-falls.  Its  coarse  brown 
and  black  fur  has  small  market  value,  but  is  in  great  de- 
mand for  the  trimming  of  the  winter  garments  of  the 
miner.  The  sable,ermine,mink,and  otter  are  found  every- 
where, the  last  two  not  being  plentiful.  The  varying 
hare, or  "rabbit,"  is  exceedingly  plentiful  in  some  years, 
rare  in  others.  It  is  taken  in  sinew  snares  by  the  Indians, 
and  its  white  ctxit  is  cut  into  strips,  plaited,  and  sewed 
into  coats,  mittens  and  rol)cs,  the  fur  being  the  lightest 
and  warmest  known,  except  the  Arctic  hare,  a  species 
with  longer  fur  found  near  the  Behring  Sea. 

The  Canada  lynx,  or  "  bob-cat."  comes  and  goes  with 
the  rabbits,  upon  which  it  feeds.  Its  fur  makes  one  t>f 
the  best  robes.  A  species  of  marmot,  c)r  large  **  grouiul- 
h<»g,"  found  in  theChilkmitsand  along  the  coast,  is  taken 
in  snares  for  its  fur,  which  makes  warm  and  serviceable 
robes.  A  kind  of  ground  squirrel  is  found,  whose  pelts 
make  the  lightest  and  best  parkas,  and  a  small  mouse 
(probably  **  Dawson's  mouse  ")  frequents  the  cabins  of  the 
miners  after  provender;  but  the  most  familiar  of  all  the 
small  animals  is  the  red  squirrel,  the  same  saucy,  chat- 
tering, scolding,  cone-tearing,  snow-burrowing  little  beast 
on  Bonanza  Creek  as  in  the  New  England  States. 

Bird  life  is  both  abundant  and  interesting.  There 
never  was  an  hour  of  the  day  in  winter  when  the  chip- 
per of  birds  was  not  to  be  heard,  and  as  spring  ap- 
proached  the  woods  seemed  alive  with  Hocks  of  small 
cone -eating,  red -polled  linnets  and  white- winged  cross- 
bills, and   there  »'as  no   visitor   more   welcome    to  the 

447 


THE    KLOXDIKK    STAMPHDE 

cabins  of  the  miners  than  the  Canada  jay,  «»r  m<H»se* 
bird,  the  same  fearless,  contidincj.  mysterious  camp-thief 
as  in  the  woods  of  Maine.  But  the  most  striking  feat- 
ure of  the  Klondike  landsoajH?  is  the  raven,  wh«>ie  hnllow 
**klonk"  is  heard  everywhere,  hauntinuj  the  cabins  in 
winter  for  whatever  may  be  thrown  out,  feastinj^  on  the 
leavinjjs  of  hunters  and  wolves,  in  summer  noiinjj  on 
the  inaccessible  cliffs  <>f  the  Yukon.  Xo  traveller  down 
the  river  has  failed  to  notice  the  thousands  ^^i  holes  in 
the  tall  sand -banks  on  the  up{>er  Vuk«»n,  the  nestinjj- 
place  of  the  bank  swallow,  which,  with  its  much  less 
common  relatives,  the  violet  -  jjreen  swallow  and  the 
commi>n  cave  or  cliflf  swallow,  which  nest  in  the  craii^s, 
are  only  summer  visitors  to  these  rejjions. 

Whoever  imaijines  that  there  are  no  birds  In  Kl«>ndike 
should  have  stootl  with  me  at  my  cabin  one  dav  early 
in  May,  after  the  sprinj^  miijration  had  U%;un.  He 
would  have  thoui^ht  a  bird-shop  had  been  there  turned 
loose  amonjj  the  evergreens  and  birches.  He  would 
have  heard  the  cheery  song  of  the  western  robin,  the 
**tsillip'*  of  the  red-shafte<l  flicker,  the  soft  murmur  of 
the  beautiful  and  rare  Bohemian  waxwing.  the  jangling 
notes  of  the  graceful  rusty  grackle  walking  the  margins 
of  the  creek,  the  lisping  "tsip"  of  the  yellow -rumped 
warbler,  the  chipper  of  white  -  crowned  sparrows  and 
slate-colored  junct^s,  minglwl  with  the  meliKlinus  love- 
songs  of  white -winged  cross -bills,  and  the  twittering 
of  innumerable  red-jx»lls  feeding  in  the  birches.  Game 
birds,  however,  were  not  plentiful.  I  shot  two  ruffed 
grouse,  several  Canada  grouse,  and  <me  blue  grouse — all 
I  saw.  FltK^ks  of  small  ptarmigan  were  fretjuenilv  met 
with  on  the  wind-swept  tops  of  the  hills.  Geese  and 
ducks  nest  sparingly  along  the  larger  watercourses. 

Among  the  inhabitants  of  the  water  the  lake  trout 

44« 


FISH 

grows   to  great   size   in    the  upper   lakes,  being   taken 
weighing  24  pounds.     The  grayling  is  taken  in  spring 
with  hook  and  line,  with  either  a  bait  or  a  rty,it  being  said 
to  rise  readily  to  the  **  coachman,"  **  brown  hackle,"  and 
*'  raven."     The  burbot,  or  fresh-water  cusk,  is  taken  on 
set  lines  in  spring.     The  pike  is  taken  in  great  numbers 
at  Medicine  Lake,  on  the  trail  to  Hirch  Creek,  weigh- 
ing 15  to  iS  pounds.     The  sucker  occurs  on  the  authori- 
ty of  Dr  Dawson.     The  whitetish  is  taken  in  the  lakes 
and  in  the  Yukon  at   Dawson,  weighing  as  high  as  40 
pounds.      But  the  fish  of  fish   is  the  salmon,  of  which 
there  are  several  species  or  varieties.     The  salmon  is  a 
salt-water  fish,  which  resorts  to  fresh  water  every  few 
years  to  spawn.     The  "  king  "  salmon  reaches   Dawson 
between  the  loth  and  15th  of  June,  and  is  taken,  weigh- 
ing as  high  as  51   pounds,  in  weirs  by  the  Indians  and 
by  the  white  men  with  drift-nets  150  to  250  feet  long. 
Salmon  of  80  pounds*  weight  have  b>een  reported  at  Fort 
Reliance.     A  few  king  salmon  ascend  the  rapids  and  can- 
yon as  far  as  the  f«x)t  of  Marsh  Lake,  but  it  is  not  proba- 
ble that  many,  after  their  exhausting  journey  of  nearly 
two  thousand  miles,  almost  or  quite  without  foi)d,  ever 
reach  the  sea  alive  again.     By  August  the  biggest  of 
the  king  salmon  have  passed  up  river.     The  "silver" 
salmon  is  the  ne.\t  run,  and  weighs  not  over  30  pt^unds. 
After  the  silver  is  the  third  and  most  plentiful  "run" 
of  all,  the  dog  salmon,  so  called  either  from  the  resem- 
blance of  its  teeth  to  those  canines,  or  to  the  fact  of  its 
being  the  staple  article  of  dog-ftH>d. 

The  price  of  salmon  on  June  15,  1898,  was  $;  a  pound, 
by  midsummer  25  cents  a  pound.  One  party  of  white 
men  in  the  height  of  the  king  "  run  "  in  one  day  caught 
seven  fish,  weighing  150  pounds,  for  which  they  re- 
ceived $75. 

2F  449 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

A  wrong  impression  generally  prevails  concerning  the 
Yukon  mosquito.  The  statement  will  hardly  be  credit- 
ed that  during  the  whole  summer  on  the  Hat  at  Daw- 
son I  did  not  see  a  single  one  !  On  the  islands  in  the 
river,  in  new  creeks  not  yet  cleared  of  trees,  however, 
they  were  exceedingly  numerous.  On  Bonanza  Cr«'ck, 
which  was  cleared  partially,  they  were  hardly  mure  an- 
noying than  in  a  certain  town  less  than  a  thousand 
miles  from  New  York  city  where  these  words  are  being 
written.  Undoubtedly,  as  one  approaches  the  nwuth 
of  the  Yukon  the  mosquitoes  grow  more  deadly,  until 
one  can  quite  believe  the  returned  missionary  who  said 
that  at  his  station  the  mosquitoes  were  so  thick  that 
when  a  man  wanted  to  tell  the  time  of  day  he  had  to 
throw  a  stick  into  the  air  so  as  to  be  able  to  see  the 
sun  ?  At  the  mouth  of  the  Tanana  River  a  horse  was 
killed  in  a  single  night,  and  men  in  the  woods  without 
protection  have  been  so  blinded  by  their  stings  that  they 
have  lost  their  way.  Even  smoke  sometimes  fails  to  re- 
pel their  attacks  altogether.  When  one  is  travelling  it 
is  necessary  to  tie  a  bit  of  netting  over  the  hat-brim,  and 
when  sleeping  out-of-doors  the  face  must  be  covered  with 
netting,  and  even  then  the  sound  of  their  singing  as  they 
try  to  get  through  will  keep  a  nervous  person  awake. 

The  natives  of  the  Yukon  Valley  are  a  hunting  race, 
subsisting  in  winter  upon  the  moose  and  caribou,  and  in 
summer  upon  fish.  Out  of  the  skins  of  the  former  they 
make  their  clothes  and  the  coverings  of  their  winter 
houses;  and,  until  it  became  more  profitable  to  sell  meat 
to  the  increasing  number  of  white  men,  they  trapped 
quantities  of  furs,  which  they  sold  to  the  traders,  receiv- 
ing in  return  blankets,guns, ammunition,  tiour, tea,  sugar, 
and  tobacco.  From  Pelly  River  down  the  tribes  are  of 
the  ** Athapaskan "  branch  of  the  Tinne-Apache  family 

450 


THE    KLONDIKE    INDIANS 

of  North  American  Indians,  but  towards  the  mouth 
of  the  Yukon  the  Inchans  are  replaced  by  Eskimos, 
whose  villages  continue  at  short  intervals  to  Bchring 
Sea. 


INDIANS    WrvrCR    ENCAMPMENT  0!f  THE   KLONDIKE   RIVEK 


The  Indians  of  the  Klondike  River,  numberinij  about 
seventy  souls,  are  known  to  themselves  as  **  Tro-chu-tin," 
and  their  river  as  the  "Tron-duk,"  of  which  the  miners* 
**  Klondike  *'  is  a  corruption. 

In  their  summer  costume,  these  Indians  affect  **store*' 
clothes,  the  men  imitatinjj  the  miners, even  to  their  broad^ 
jjray,  cow-boy  hats ;  while  the  women  imitate  their  white 
sisters  to  a  corresponding  degree  in  dresses  and  jackets 
from  the  well-filled  stores  of  the  trader.  In  winter,  how- 
ever, when  hunting,  one  sees  them  in  their  former  wild 
picturesqueness.  The  men  wear  legging-trousers  with 
moccasins,  made  in  one  garment,  of  caribou  skin  with 
hair  inside,  and  worn  ne.xt  to  the  skin ;  a  shirt  of  the  same 
or  rabbit  skin,  or  of  blanket-stuff,  which  in  vividness  and 
variety  of  color  rivals  the  spectrum ;  a  sable  or  beaver 

45« 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

cap,  and  large  pocket-like  mittens  of  rabbit  or  caribou 
skin,  with  hair  inside,  or  moosehide  lined  witli  lynx  fur. 

The  house-dress  of  the  women  is  made  of  calico  or 
cloth.  Over  this,  when  travellinji^,  they  wear  a  vt)lumi- 
nous  dress  reaching  half-way  from  the  knees  to  the 
ground,  with  a  large  hood,  which  can  be  pulled  over  the 
head,  but  is  used  more  often  as  a  receptacle  for  the 
baby;  while  a  kerchief  of  fancy  cotton  or  silk  is  tied 
around  the  bead.    The  children  dress  entirely  in  furs,  the 


KLONDIKE  INDIANS   GOING   AFTER   FALIFN    MOOSF-   WITH    TOBOGGANS 


boys  wearing  legging-trousers  and  deerskin  shirts,  or  par- 
kas provided  with  hoods,  the  rhittens  of  the  very  smallest 
being  sewed  fast  to  the  sleeves;  while  the  girls  wear  gar- 
ments like  those  of  their  mothers.  When  so  rigged  they 
roll  about  in  the  snow  at  play  as  unmindful  of  cold  as 

452 


MOOSE    HUNTING 

polar  bears.  Every  Indian  villap^e  has  a  plentiful  assort- 
ment of  native  *' wolf  "or  Eskimo  dojjs.  These  are  mainly 
ernployed  to  haul  their  tobog:gans  of  birch-W(K)d,on  which 


IinXRIOR  OF  INMAlf  SKIW-HOUSK 

are  placed  all  their  jjoods,  including  even  the  babies  and 
small  pups,  when  they  travel  from  place  to  place  in  pur- 
suit of  the  moose  and  caritxju.  The  winter's  hunt  lasts 
several  months,  and  the  whole  village,  including  old  men, 
women,  and  nursing  babes,  accompany  the  hunters.  The 
winter  houses  are  made  of  caribou  skins  sewed  together 
to  make  a  rounded  cover  and  hauled  over  a  dome-shaped 
frame  of  bent  poles  set  into  a  ridge  of  snow  banked  up 
in  the  form  of  an  ellipse  eighteen  feet  long  by  twelve 
feet  wide,  the  ground  inside  being  covered  with  spruce 
boughs.  A  large  hole  is  left  overhead  for  the  smoke  of 
the  camp-fire  to  ascend.     The  hunters  go  ahead  ujx)n 

4S3 


THE    KLONDIKE    vSTAMPEDE 

snow-shoes,  while  the  women  follow  with  the  camp  eijuip- 
ment  to  a  designated  sjkU,  generally  six  or  seven  miles 
distant,  where  they  make  camp.  The  moose  is  surround- 
ed in  its  feeding-ground  by  a  band  of  eight  or  more  hunt- 
ers, who  are  generally  able  to  secure  a  quick  shot  as  it 
runs,  although  some  of  the  best  hunters  prefer  to  stalk 
and  shtK^t  the  moose  as  it  lies  in  its  bed  in  the  snow. 
The  meat  is  hauled  to  camp  by  dogs,  and  the  hides 
dressed  by  the  women.  The  traders  supply  them  with 
modern  repeating  rifles,  which  they  use  with  a  success 
that  is  not  remarkable  when  one  considers  that  «»nly  d 
few  years  ago  they  had  no  more  effective  weafions  than 
bows  and  arrows  and  stout  spears.  The  snow-shoes  are 
long  and  narrow,  with  upturneil  ti>es,  the  frame  l)eing  of 
white  birch,  filled  with  carib«.)u-skin  webbing. 

Their  canoes  are  made  of  birch-bark,  but  in  construc- 
tion are  less  like  the  birch  canoe  of  the  East  than  the 
Eskimo  kyiik^  or  skin  -  beat.  They  are  slender  and 
graceful  in  appearance,  with  high,  upturned  ends,  the 
forward  part  being  decked  over  with  bark  for  about  five 
feet.  Like  the  k)ak\  a  man's  canoe  usually  carries  but 
one  grown  person  ;  the  women's  or  family  canoe  is  not 
decked  over  and  is  somewhat  larger.  The  occupant  sits 
in  the  middle  of  the  canoe  and  propels  it  skilfully  by 
means  of  a  single-bladed  paddle  deftly  dipped  from  side 
to  side.  When  going  up-stream  in  shallow  water  the 
canoe-man  uses  two  slender  p<^)les,  one  in  each  hand, 
m'ith  which  he  digs  his  way  along. 


"V, 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

Last  Steamer  for  SL  Michael—FortyMile—'*  Eagle  City "—"  Star  **  ami 

**  Seventy- M ile  "  Cities 


o 


X  the  1 6th  (Jay  of  September  ice  was 
making  in  the  gulches,  and  what 
was  thought  to  be  the  last  steam- 
boat which  could  reach  St.  Michael  and  con- 
nect with  the  ocean  vessel  for  home  before 
navigation  closed  left  Dawson  with  a  mill- 
ion and  a  half  in  gold-dust  and  a  gotnlly  numlxT  of 
passengers,  who  chose  the  longer  route  by  Behring  Sea 
to  the  now  quicker  route  by  which  we  had  entered  the 
Yukon  a  year  before.  Our  journey  —  the  ten  days  by 
river  on  the  Jo!tn  Cudah}\  fastest  of  river -lx>ats,  the 
grand  scenery,  the  native  villages  and  settlements  of 
historic  interest  along  the  Yukon,  the  ten  days  of  wait- 
ing at  bleak  St.  Michael  for  an  ocean  steamer  to  ap- 
pear, the  incidents  on  shipboard,  the  brief  stay  amid  the 
incomparable  glacier -topped  mountains  and  land-locked 
inlets  of  Unalaska,with  its  sea-birds»  Aleuts,  and  smoking 
volcanoes,  the  si.\-day  ocean  voyage  to  Seattle,  and  the 
final  adieus  to  friends  and  companions  in  hunger  and 
plenty, in  misery  and  gcxxl-fortune — ^all  these  were  a  fitting 
close  to  sixteen  months  of  an  experience  that  none  of  us 
can  hope  to  see  repeated  in  a  lifetime:  A  life  of  freedom 
and  adventure  has  a  fascination  which  grows  rather  than 
diminishes,  and  yet  the  privations  that  every  person  who 
went  into  Klondike  endured  taught  him  better  to  separate 

455 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

the  gcKKl  from  the  bad,  the  essential  from  the  non-essential» 
and  to  recojjnize  the  real  blessings  and  comforts  of  civiliza- 
tion. This  imperfect  story  of  what  I  saw  of  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  movements  of  people  in  the  history  of  the 
world  cannot  come  to  a  close  without  more  particular 
reference  to  what  has  been  taking  place,  not  only  in  Klon- 
dike proi>er,  but  in  our  own  American  territory.  It  has 
been  shown  that  the  great  "mineral  belt/*  rich  not  only 
in  gold,  but  in  copper,  silver,  coal,  and  other  minerals, 
continues  westward  to  the  very  sands  of  the  beaches  of 
Behring  Sea,  embracing  a  vast  territory,  which,  together 
with  that  of  the  unexplored  rivers  of  the  Canadian  Yukon, 
will,  it  is  safe  to  predict,  furnish  a  field  for  prospecting 
during  the  life  of  this  generation. 

During  the  winter  of  1S97-98,  Forty-Mile,  Birch  Creek, 
and  other  streams  on  the  American  side  of  the  141st  me- 
ridian, were  relocated  by  new  men,  chiefly  in  claims  of  1320 
feet,  or  twenty  acres,  the  extreme  limit  allowed  under  the 
United  States  law.  Not  much  work  has  yet  been  done, 
the  creeks,  on  account  of  the  lower-grade  earth,  being 
regarde<las  "company," or  hydraulicking,  "propositions." 
The  International  Boundary  crosses  Forty- Mile  River 
twenty-three  miles  above  its  mouth,  and  has  been  clearly 
cut  out  by  Mr.  Ogilvie  to  a  point  on  the  Yukon  forty 
miles  below  Forty-Mile.  The  Canadian  Forty-Mile  min- 
ing district  includes  the  head  of  Sixty -Mile.  Nothing 
startlingly  large  was  found  on  Forty-Nfile  until  Miller 
Creek,  Sixty- Mile,  was  discovered  by  O.  C,  otherwise 
**  Kink,"  Miller,  in  1892,  from  which  the  next  year  eighty 
men  took  out  §100,000.  In  1896  a  (ierman-Swiss,  John- 
nie Miiller,  took  $12,000  out  of  No.  17  below  Discovery, 
so  that  he  was  able  to  deposit  at  San  Francisco  286 
pounds  of  gold,  for  which  he  received  $54,639,  l)esides 
paying  about  $13,000  in  wages;  while  Charlie  Anderson 

456 


a. 


•-^.-^-.-ir  •■•■*] 


'^>^^\ 


l)8i<' 


^. 


t^Kt^-oij^;  tj,i|^gii^a<i%-: 


Ssi®*^£.- 


-■=*:.  i 


SKAG^VAY.    Februarv.  1S99 


^»ife!t«^"'^*^i 


Lf-'^" 


.  ,      -^V^  f*'-'2'-;'  t-;'-i-- 


.^ 


.:^^^ 


SKACTVAY.     FrB.UAity.  1S99 


"tT'Jii^Wvv'^;. r--- ,  c-  ''VC^. 


r^SV," 


4 


.^^^ 


^'  ^ 


'3f^tofc...^rii'j&.fcfc'f^ifci'yi«KiwM>>aMaairitniinrii  i     i   i  mnrnr'nti 


>SV.   1899 


CIRCLE    CITY 

and  another  took  out  $i  7,000  more.  The  output  of  Forty- 
Mile  in  1S96  was  $460,000.  The  present  town  contains 
about  two  hundred  cabins,  and  probably  fewer  persons. 

Fifty  miles  below  Forty- Mile,  at  the  mouth  of  Mis- 
sion Creek,  on  tributaries  of  which  jjold  was  first  found 
in  1895,  a  town  was  laid  off  by  twenty -eii^ht  miners  on 
the  28th  of  May,  1898,  and  named  ''Eajjle  City."  Cal)in- 
sites  were  allotted  by  drawinj;^  numbered  slips  of  pai>er 
out  of  a  hat.  About  a  thousand  persons  wintered  there, 
and  it  has  been  selected  as  a  United  States  military  p<»st. 

Thirty  miles  below  Mission  Creek,  at  the  mouth  of 
Seventy-Mile  Creek,  a  stream  150  miles  long,  that  in  1888 
paid  §50  per  day  to  men  with  rockers,  a  town-site  was  laid 
off,  in  the  winter  of  1S97-98,  and  called  "  Star  City."  In 
the  spring  it  was  flooded,  so  another  town  was  start- 
ed two  miles  above  on  the  Yukon,  called  **  Seventy-Mile 
City,"  with  a  p<ipulation  of  two  or  three  hundred. 

Two  hundred  and  fifteen  miles  below  Daws^^n  the  Yu- 
kon enters  the  "Yukon  Flats,"  an  ancient  lake-bed  a 
hundred  miles  in  width  and  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  long,  through  which  the  river  courses,  spread- 
ing out  in  a  maze  of  channels  to  .an  extreme  width  of 
ten  miles.  Seven  miles  lx?yond  the  head  of  the  Flats, 
straggling  for  two  miles  along  a  low  bluff,  is  Circle  City,  a 
town  of  about  three  hundred  cabins,  including  the  stores 
of  the  two  old  companies,  office  of  the  United  States 
Commissioner,  a  government  school,  an  Episcopal  mis- 
sion, and  a  miners*  association,  with  a  library  of  one  thou- 
sand volumes.  Government  is  represented  by  the  Com- 
missioner, two  customs  ofiiicers,  a  deputy  internal  reve- 
nue collector,  a  deputy  marshal,  and  a  postmaster.  The 
first  Commissioner,  Hon.  John  B.  Crane,  entered  up*m  his 
duties  on  Octol)er  2,  1897.  The  Birch  Creek  diggings, 
lying  from  thirty  to  eighty  miles  back  of  Circle  City, 

457 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

were  discovered  in  1S92  hy  two  Russian  half-breeds,  Pitka 
and  Sorresco.  Next  year  Henry  Lewis,  John  McLeod» 
and  Gus  Williams  worked  **  Pitka's  Bar"  with  such  re- 
sults that  when  the  news  reached  Forty-Mile,  where  the 
season  had  not  been  an  encouraging;  one,  eighty  men, 
or  about  half  the  population,  were  given  outfits  on  credit 
by  McQuesten,  anil  descended  to  a  point  on  the  Yuk«>n 
twelve  miles  alK)ve  the  present  Circle  City,  and  establish- 
ed a  town,  which  they  named  "Circle  City,"  from  its 
supposed  proximity  to  the  Arctic  Circle  (it  was  really 
somewhat  to  the  southward).  The  spring  following 
several  cabins  were  washed  away,  so  the  town  was  moved 
to  its  present  site.  That  winter  Mammoth,  >Listod(m, 
Hog'em,  Greenhorn,  and  Independence  creeks  were  pros- 
pected, yielding  $<;ooo.  Other  creeks  were  added,  and, 
in  1895,  the  output  was  $400,000,  with  a  population  of  700. 
In  1896  the  output  was  $900,000,  for  a  total  i)opulation  of 
900.  Regarding  the  future  of  this  di^trict,  abandoned 
for  Klondike,  Samuel  C.  Dunham,  Cnited  States  LaU^r 
Statistician,  who  spent  the  winter  of  1897-98  in  Circle 
City,  makes  this  remarkable  report : 

-The  prediction  is  here  made,  based  on  authentic  information. 
that  the  ten  miles  of  ground  on  Mastodon  and  Mammoth  (which 
are  one  creek  except  in  desij^'nation)  already  prospected,  will 
eventually  produce  as  much  gold  as  any  successive  ten  miles  on 
Bonanza,  while  the  ten  claims  on  Mast«-><lon.  from  4  below  to  5 
above  Discovery,  inclusive,  will  without  douht  pnne  as  productive 
as  any  ten  claims  on  Eldorado,  taken  in  their  numerical  order. 
Furthermore,  on  account  of  the  even  distribution  of  gold  in  the 
Birch  Creek  district,  the  output  here,  extending  over  a  longer 
period  of  time  and  employing  larger  numbers  of  men,  will  be  of 
incalculably  greater  economic  benern  to  the  community  than  the 
more  phenomenal  production  of  the  creeks  in  the  Klondike 
district." 

45« 


LITTLE    MINOOK 

Less  than  a  thousand  wintered  in  189S-99  at  Circle 
City. 

At  Fort  Hamlin,  an  Alaska  Commercial  Company  post, 
the  river  enters  the  mountains,  or  "Lower  Ramparts." 
Fifty  miles  farther,  at  the  mouth  of  Minook  Creek,  is 
**Rampart  City,"  established  in  the  fall  of  1S97  chiefly 
by  a  number  of  intending  miners,  who  had  started  for 
Klondike  on  various  regular  and  specially  chartered 
steamers,  and  were  frozen  in  and  staked  a  number  of 
creeks  tributary  to  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  Minook 
Creek,  a  stream  on  which  fine  gold  had  been  found  in 
1882.  In  1893  John  Minook,  a  Russian  half-breed,  found 
the  first  coarse  gold  on  Little  Minook,  a  tributary  of  Big 
Minook.  In  1896  there  were  seven  men  at  work  ;  in  the 
spring  of  1897  thirteen  men  cleaned  up  122  ounces  of 
gold.  Of  the  three  hundred  and  fifty  ''stranded"  men  who 
wintered  there  in  1897-98,  only  eighty-five  did  any  pros- 
pecting or  work,  and  that  was  mainly  on  five  claims  on 
Little  Minook,  which  cleaned  up  about  $1 10,000,  of  which 
$43,000  came  from  No.  6  above  Discovery.  In  April, 
1898,  an  Idaho  miner,  named  Range,  discovered  bench- 
diggings  of  value  on  a  hill  between  two  tributaries  of 
Minook,  naming  it  ** Idaho  Bar,"  and  other  **  bars"  were 
subsequently  discovered  in  similar  situations.  During 
the  winter  of  1898-99,  a  large  part  of  the  jmpulation, 
then  numbering  about  a  thousand,  stampeded  to  the 
headwaters  of  the  Koyukuk  River,  where  a  numl)er  of 
parties  had  gone  the  fall  before.  But  nothing  impor- 
tant appears  to  have  resulted. 

The  most  significant  discovery  was  made  on  the  Xeu- 
kluk  River,  a  tributary  thirty  miles  from  the  mouth  of 
Fish  River — a  stream  150  miles  long  and  navigable  for 
steamboats  —  which  enters  Oolovin  Bay,  Behring  Sea, 
one  hundred  miles  north  of  St.  Michael.     In  1895  traces 

459 


THE   KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

of  coarse  gold  were  discovered  on  the  Ncukluk  by  one 
Johansen,  a  miner  who  was  "  j;riil)-staked "  by  Edwin 
Englest* :!,  a  trader  of  Unalaklik  and  St.  Michael.  In 
the  winter  of  1S97-9S,  several  parties,  consisting  mainly 
of  some  miners  who  hail  reached  St.  Mirhael  on  vessels 
of  too  deep  draught  to  enter  the  Yukon,  pros|>ecte<!  and 
found  gold.  \V.  K.  Melsing,  of  San  Francisco,  matle  the 
first  discovery  of  importance,  in  March,  at  the  mouth 
of  "Melsing  Creek,"  and  A.  l\  Mordaunt,  t»f  the  same 
city,  found  even  better  diggings  on  **()phir  Creek"  and 
its  tributaries,  '*  Dutch  "  and  "  Sweetcake  '*  creeks,  (^phir 
Creek  showed  $2  to  the  pan,  the  diggings  iK-ing  shallow. 
Three  men,  with  a  rocker  built  out  of  baking-powder 
packing-cases,  rocked  out  $1500  in  eleven  or  twelve  days, 
and  $70  in  two  days.  During  the  summer  about  two 
hundreil  persons  outfitted  at  St.  Michael  for  the  new- 
diggings,  and  located  i>thei  tributaries  of  the  Neukluk. 
"Council  City,"  eighteen  mik"s  up  the  Xeukluk,  was  the 
centre  of  the  nev  diggings,  and  consisted,  in  May,  iS<;S, 
of  two  dwellings — a  log  cabin  and  a  tent.  Not  much 
work  was  done  until  the  following  winter,  when  a  num- 
ber of  claims  were  opened  up.  In  the  spring  the  first 
steamer  arriving  at  Seattle  from  St.  Michael  brought  re- 
ports of  large  clean-ups  at  Council  City,  but  these  were 
accompanied  by  other  news  of  so  sensational  a  character 
that  in  the  published  re[>ortsGoiv»vin  Hay  and  Fi>h  River 
were  lost  sight  «)f.  This  was  no  less  than  the  dis<«>very 
during  the  winter  of  immcnM.ly  rich  g»>ld  ilei>*»>its  on 
Snake  River,  eighty  miles  west  •)f  (iolovin  Hay,  followed 
by  the  discovery  of  gold  ///  //it'  buicli  sauii  oi  Rehring  Sea 
at  Cape  Nome.  The  most  reliable  account  of  the  dis- 
cover}' apj>ears  to  be  as  foll<)Ws  : 

In  September,  189.S,   II.   L.   Blake,  partner  of  W.  F. 
Melsing,  learned  through  an  Eskimo   of  gold  at  Cape 


**ANVIL    CITY- 

Nome,  and  in  company  with  Rev.  J.  O.  Ilultberix,  a 
Swedish  evangelical  missionary  fromtJolovin  Bay,  Chris- 
topher  Kimber,  and  Frank  Porter,  went  up  Snake  River, 
and  on  "Anvil  Crerk"  discovered  gold  that  ran  $4  to  the 
pan,  but  did  not  stake,  intending  to  keep  their  discovery 
secret  and  return  in  the  spring  with  provisions  and  out- 


j^^ 


iA^r^"^  ■/0^'\/kC^ 


%  % 


•f  III"  jfi'i  "if'i  tiVrtKiliiMi 


jaMBifiiiiaaB  irttiipi 


lOCKTNG  GOLD  OX  SH«>RF^  OF  BEHRINO  SEA,  AT  CAPE  NOME,  OCT.  j,  189* 


fits.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Hultberg  gave  the  information  t<» 
a  fellow -missionary  named  Anderson,  who  immediately 
organized  a  party  of  seven,  and,  braving  the  storms  of 
that  season,  set  out  for  Cape  Nome,  and  found  on  Anvil 
Creek  even  richer  diggings  than  Blake's,  staked  claims, 
returned  to  Council  Citv,  and  claimed  the  honor  of  dis- 
covery.  The  secret  being  out,  there  was  a  stampede 
from  all  the  region  around  about.     Four  hundred  men 

461 


THE    KLONDIKE    STAMPEDE 

reached  Nome  by  January,  where  they  lived  in  tents  till 
spring.  The  sufferinj^s  of  the  miners,  some  o{  whom 
had  come  two  hundred  miles  overland  from  K<Jtzcbue 
Sound,  were  intense.  Many  tributaries  of  Snake  River 
were  staked,  and  a  city  known  as  *'  Anvil  City  "  laid  out 
at  the  mouth  of  Snake  River.  In  June  or  July,  1S99, 
gold  was  discovered  in  the  sand  of  the  beach.  When 
the  news  reached  Daws*)n  eight  thousand  men  left  that 
place  inside  of  a  week.  On  October  ist  Anvil  City,  or 
*•  Nome  City,"  at  the  mouth  of  Snake  River,  was  a  town 
of  eight  thousand  souls,  with  warehouses,  saloons,  thea- 
tres, tents,  and  cabins  extending  for  four  miles  along  the 
beach.  Many  miles  of  creeks  and  the  beach  for  thirteen 
miles  were  staked  in  claims,  the  beach  goKl  being  secured 
with  rockers.  The  output  of  the  whole  regit»n,  includ- 
ing Fish  River,  for  the  summer  is  estimated  at  $2,000,000 
— much  more  than  the  Klondike  for  its  first  year;  and 
if  the  diggings  prove  as  extensive  as  supiKjsed  Klondike 
will  be  surpassed.  In  the  spring  it  is  expected  that  not 
less  than  thirty  or  forty  thousand  persons  will  reach  the 
new  diggings,  which  are  comparatively  easy  of  access. 

A  final  glance  at  the  upper  Yukon.  Diggings  promis- 
ing some  richness  were  discovered  in  the  summer  of  189S 
at  Atlin  Lake,  a  connection  of  the  Taku  Arm  of  Tagish 
Lake.  This  field, only  seventy-five  miles  from  Skagway, 
is  in  British  Columbia,  and  that  province  immediately 
passed  an  "alien"  law,  to  prevent  any  but  Canadians 
from  holding  claims  there.  There  was  no  (iold  Commis- 
sioner at  the  start,  records  became  hopelessly  confused, 
and  finally  a  special  commission  had  to  be  ap{x)inted  to 
try  to  straighten  the  affairs  out. 

As  this  goes  to  press,  the  output  for  the  third  clean-up 
at  Klondike  is  rejJorted  at  twenty  millions,  taken  almost 

-V62 


DAWSON 

wholly  from  the  creeks  previously  descril)ecl.  Dawson 
has  a  |X)puIalion  of  ten  thousand,  with  brick  houses,  an 
electric  tramway  under  way  up  lionanza  Creek,  and  a 
telegraph  line  to  Skagway.  The  railroad  is  being  ex- 
tended towards  White  Ht>rse  Rapids,  where  a  lode  of 
copper  has  been  reported.  A  few  days  after  the  Cape 
Nome  stampede,  cabins  that  had  previously  been  valued 
at  $500  or  more  were  to  be  had  for  the  taking.  The 
town  has  been  much  improved  in  appearance,  and  there 
are  many  de>irable  features  of  social  life— such  as  chibs 
—that  did  not  exist  before.  At  the  present  moment  the 
life  of  Dawson,  as  an  important  mining  camp,  is  limited 
by  that  of  the  half-dozen  creeks  that  have  been  herein 
descrilxKl.  unices  rich  tpiartz  ledges  have  meanwhile  been 
discovered  and  developed. 

The  time  by  single  dog  team  fmm  Dawson  to  Skag- 
way  has  been  reduced  to  ten  days.  By  relays  of  dogs 
between  the  police  stations  the  mounted  pdice  have 
carried  letters  in  nine  days.  **Jack"  Carr,  the  United 
States  mail  carrier,  referring  to  the  wonderful  change 
that  has  taken  place  in  these  years,  is  reported  to  have 
said:  **If  any  one  had  told  me  a  iK'rson  could  make  the 
trip  in  winter  from  Dawson  to  Skagway  without  lighting 
a  match  1  couldn't  have  believed  it." 


APPENDIX 


A  TYPICAL  OXK-YEAR  Ol'TFIT  FOR  <>XK  MAV,  Sl'l'I'LIKU 
BY  THB  ALASKA  COMMERCLVL  COMPANY  AT  DAWSON,  IN 
JUNE,  1897 

Amtkims  Pucb 

Suo  pounds  Hour,  l|^>  |icr  sack  of  50  pountU $6o.uo 

80       **       beans ^ lo.<x> 

J5       •*       pease.. ., ...    ..  6.25 

25       •*       roUetl  oat^ , 6.25 

IS       ••       corn-meal 3.75 

I  ca;se  condensed  milk,  4  dtk/en  i-ixiund  cans 24.(M) 

I     **    cabl>aj;e.  2  diven  2-pimiul  cans l2.ot» 

I     **    roost  beef,  i  d^vren  2-(Hiun«l  cans 9.00 

t    *•    corned  beef,  i  d«ven  2-|H>und  cans 9,00 

t     **    sausa^^e  meat,  2  «kven  2  [^>und  cans iS.oo 

I     *•     turkey,  2  d«ven  2-p«iun«l  can^. ...  i2.uo 

I     •*    tomatoes.  2  d«wen  2|  |H)und  can> lo.cio 

I    ••    string  beans.  2  d<ven  2-iMjund  cans l2.oi> 

75  pounds  bacon 30.00 

50       "       ham 22.50 

25       "       drieil  ai>plci .^ 6,25 

25       **       dried  prunes 6.25 

25       **       drieil  peaches 7.50 

25       •*       dried  af*rico(s 8.75 

25       *•       raisins  or  grapev 6.25 

100       **       granulated  sugar 30.00 

I  keg  pickles.  5  galUm^ 5.00 

I    •*    sauerkraut.  5  galkxbw 5.00 

S  gall«>ns  maple-s\-mp 15.00 

35  pounds  evaporated  pocatno 12. 50 

15      "      cheese. 7.50 

10      •*      coffee laoo 

2G  465 


APPENDIX 


A   TYIMCAL   ONK-YKAR    OUTFIT  — CV/»//<»»r../ 

A«TICLa>  PRKB 

5  p«Hinils  Mack  tea $^>.  35 

5  ••       ch«Kolate .... 3. 75 

2  bottles  lime-juice 4.«> 

6  **       Worcesterxhirt  >aucc 4,50 

30  pounds  larvl y.oo 

I  U>x  niacaroiii,  1 2  |><>umU 2.<«t> 

12  pounds  mi nce-meat .  I2<i«> 

-  2  pairs  ruht»er  IhmUv iS.txi 

■  I  tin  a.>Ntjrtetl  cakes,  36  fxmnds. io.«w» 

4  boxes  cantlles,  1 2u  to  ilie  1k»\ 24.00 

I  case  l>aking  |*«>w<ler,  2  do^en  ^  [Hmnd  cans li.tw 

6  bars  wxshinj;  M»ap i.oo 

5  •*     toilet  soap 1.00 

1 5  |M>un<ls  salt 1 .  50 

I  case  coal-oil,  l«>  pcallons  ...    1 2.00 

3  lamp  chimney-* .50 

100  feet  ro|>e.  three-fourths  or  seven  ciglahs  inch iS.oo 

I  five-fo»>t  bull-saw.. 6.CJi> 

3  bull-saw  6Iex. 1. 50 

I  l^ir  Arctic  oxcrslmt-* 4-5'> 

3  pairs  felt  sluies, 5.«> 

4  *•    woitllc-n  s4N.ks 4-oi> 

3     •*     nn»ccasin> .  5.00 

3     '*    Mral  «aier-boots  or  niukluks 5.ix> 

6  ••    skin  mittenv 15.00 

TouJ. .•.♦53*».25 


PRICES  P.MD  FOR  GOODS  AT  DAWSON,  OlTSIDK  OF  TUB 
STORES  OF  THE  TWO  PKINCIl'AL  TRADING  COMI'ANIKS 
DURING    WINTER    OF    1 897-98 

Candles,  ft  each  ;  fLjo  per  lx»\  of  120  :   Ker«»cnc.  ^o  |»i-r  ^II<»n. 
Yukon  sheet-steel  stoves,  uith  three  j<Muts  pi|>e.  |4*>  **•  ♦"S- 
Yukon  sled.  $40 ;  basket  slei^jh,  $75. 
iJogs,  up  to  $400  each. 

Horses,  $34<io  per  p.-iir  ;  native  hay.  $i.*nt  l«»  $I2ib>  |>er  ttvn. 
Moccasins,  moitse-hide.  native-made.  l|7 ;  formerly  30  cents  inrr  pair. 
M»>ccasins.  Canailian  nMwi-Kr-hide.  j|ti2  |xrr  juir. 
Mittcas.  native  moo!>e-hide.  $6  to  :^io  )>cr  )>air. 

466 


APPENDIX 

Flmir,  $i<>o  to  $120  per  <ick  of  5«>  |x>un<N  in  tXt«4>rr.  1S07 :  ♦i?  tt»  f  50 
per  vick  in  Januan-.  I'»»>S;  ^12.51)  |H*r  Nack  in  May;  $3  |Hri  >aj.k  in 
June,  184)8. 

Oysters.  aU>iit  i-|>«>un«1  tin.  *iS  («»  ^^25  each. 

Men's  ilecr  skin  "parkas.**  :f5o  t«>  4>i»»o;  la«lies*  mink-skin  "  |»arkas.*' 
$I(X>;  l.ailics'  tail<»r-ma<ic  cl«nli  jackets,  ^15;  n»tn'">.  suit  clothes,  custoni- 
made,  ♦135  to  ^IS**;  tri»u*.ers,  not  levs  ih.an  f>yt  |»er  jwir;  mink  ih* 
marten  caps.  $2<»;  tirill  "|varkas,"  tvith  foxtail  armind  hood.  4^7  fur 
making  :  fur  rol>cs.  $t^n  to  JjLjoo  each  ;  Nnow-sh«>e^,  $3«>  ^K-r  jviir. 

Washinjj.  50  cents  per  piece  :  while  shirts,  $1.50  each. 

Tt)l»acco,  sinokini;.  *7.5o  |)cr  |N>un(l  :  ci_i;arcttex.  f4>  cents  |>er  |ack. 

Fresh  mutton.  ^1.50  per  ptmiul  :  l)eef,  ^'i  l<r  i»«Hin«l;  ni«M>se,  $1  tolli.75 
jicr  |Miun<l. 

Firewo»>»l,  4'3S  ^^  $15  |*^r  conl. 

Coj»y  of  Shake>»i>eare,  $50. 

SOME  STORE    PRICES    DURI\*r.    WIXTER   OF    1S97-98 

Alcoh»»I.  |t40  t«>  $85.25  i^r  ijallon. 
Nails.  $5<M)  |ier  kejj  of  5<h>  |><»un«ls. 
Blue  tlenim,  28-inch.  75  cents  |)er  yanl ;  «-hite  muslin,  25  cents  t«>  50  c-ents 

l^r  yanl. 
Pencils  ncetUes  threatl,  etc.  25  cents  each. 
l3-pound  blanketN,  4125. 
kepeatinj;-ritles,  $45  each  ;  cartridjjes  for  same.  10  cents  each. 

WAGES   AT    D.WVSON    IN*    WIXTER    AXI>   Sl'MMER    OF    1897-9S 

Ordinary  miners,  ^1  to  II1.50  an  hour. 

Foremen  in  mines,  ^15  and  upward  {ter  day  of  ten  h«mrs. 

Ordinary  lalx»f  «>iher  than  minin<j.  $1  per  h.nir. 

Tin -smiths,  |li. 50  an  h«»ur  :   ^killed   w«««»»l -wttrkers,  ^17  j^^r  day  »»f  ten 

hours;  tailors'  workmen.  $1  50  an  hour. 
Ikirtcnders,  f  15  per  day  :  Umk  keej>ers,  ^17  50  |ieT  «L»y  ;  f.in»-dealer'».  ^2t» 

per  day;  musicians.  $17.50  lo  $2«»  |»er  day. 
Ty^^e^»  riters,  50  cents  per  f<»li«». 
Ser\-ices  tA  man  and  t\»»>»horse  team.  $10  |ier  b«iur;   drivers,  *ynt  |ier 

mtmth  and  l>uard. 
Ty|tesetters,  4>i-5<^  I'^r  hour,  or  ^2  [^r  th<Hts.iiid  entx. 
C«H»ks  in   nraaurant'..  $ioi>   |>er  week   ami   Uiarti;    u»cn   waiterN.  ^o  |»er 

week  ami  Ujanl;  w<»men  waiters,  $|(m>  j»er  BK»oth  ai»<l  Uanl. 
Ilarbers,  65  |»er  cent,  of  receij)ts  of  chair.  $15  to  l^o  |«r  ilay. 

Durinj;  summer  of  i8<)S  comnvm  w.^ijes  fell  to  60  cents  an  hour;  winter 
contracts.  i8<>S-<)<),  f«>r  oniinary  laU^r  in  mines,  ^kh)  {>cr  month  with  lM»anl. 

467 


APPENDIX 


PRICES   OF    COMMDHITIFS    AT    I>A\VS(>\'    IN    Sl'MMER    OF    1898 

Oranj^cs  antl  !ein«»ns,  50  cents  t«»  $1.50  eu:*». 

Watermelons,  5*25  each.  * 

Apples,  25  cents  to  |» I  each. 

Cham[»a|;ne,  $20  to  ^^40  per  pint;  sherry.  #15  |>er  pint  ;   clai   ..  $15  p-r 

pint.  $35  |>er quart  :  ale,  ^5  i>er  ImjIiIc  ;  niiiural  water.  <!3  j>cr  bottle. 
Shave,  f  I  ;  hair-cutting.  |i. 50;  l>ath,  I2.5U. 


^  TABLE    OP    DISTANCES  *" 

Miuts 

San  Francisco  to  r>a\vs4»n  :t\t  St.  Michael 44'^  t<)  462«> 

Seattle  tu  l>av%'s4>n  **  '*  401S  to  4239 

••  l>yea  "  '* 1000 

•'       •*  Skaguay  (steamlM»at  route) I012 

Juneau  to  Ska^u ay. 106 

Skaguay  to  I>)ca 4 

Skagway  to  Lake  Bennett  r/«i  White  Tass  and  Yukon  K'w'y         40 

DISTANCES   ACCORDING    TO   MR.   WILLIAM    (XIILVIK's   SURVEY 

Mius 

|)yea  to  Summit  of  Chilkoot 14-76 

•*     •*  l.ake  Limleman 23.c/» 

.   •*     *•  Lake  Bennett  (he.nl  of  navij;ation  on  the  Yukon >  2S.oq 

Foot  of  Ta^^Nh  l^ke  (Canailian  Custon»-IIous«r)  73-25 

llea<i  of  Miles  Canyt»n |     Tramway      (  122  (>4 

Foot  of  Miles Cany«>n j      *>j>eratetl      |  123.56 

llea«l  of  White-H«»rse  Kapi«ls  j           l»y           I  I24.«)5 

Fttot  of  White  Morse  knpiiU.    I         Horses        [  125.33 

lleati  of  Ijkke  Lahar^e »53»07 

Foot  t»f  I^ke  I^barjje 1S4.22 

II«)otaIij)<|ua.  or  Teslinto,  River 215..SS 

Big  Sahnon  River 24<).33 

Little  Sal nuMi  River 2S5.54 

Five-Kint;er  Rapi<ls 344-S3 

Pelly  River  (Fort  Selkirk) 4t>3.2y 

Stewart  River 508.91 

Sixty-Mile  River  (Town-site  of  Ojjilvie) 53*Mt 

••     **   Dawson  City  (MiHilh  of  the  Klontlike  Ri%er>..  57570 

Dawson  City  to  Forty-Mile  River 51-3* 

**          *•      *•  Intcmati«H»al  Boundary  on  the  Yukon. .  9173 

468 


•• 

•  * 

•• 

«4 

•• 

•  « 

•« 

»« 

4« 

•  • 

•  • 

•  * 

•  • 

•« 

•« 

•  • 

•  * 

«• 

•  « 

•« 

M 

«* 

•  • 

•  • 

•4 

«« 

M 

•  4 

APPENDIX 

APPROXIMATE    DISTASTES    BKLOW    HAWSOV 

Mium 

Dawson  to  Circle  City 22t> 

••  Kort  Yukon... 3i»3 

••        •*  Tanana  and  Wearc  (Majis  ami   l>cN«.ri|»tionx  of 

Alaska,  U.  S.  Ctctilog.  Sur..  i8«/)) X<;o 

••        *•  St.  Michael,  suppoNetl  dist.  (same  authority) —  .  1491) 

••        ••  St.  Michael  (Map,  J.  B.  Tyrell.  !8<>8) i2t)S 

*        ••St.  Michael,  estimates    of  steamboat    captains, 

as  high  as. 2050 

St.  Michael  to  Anvil  City,  Cape  Xoofie  a  little  over 100 


HI 

TABLE  OP  TEMPERATl'RES  OBSERVED  BY  MR.  \VTLLI-\M 
(KilLVlE  AT  FORTY-MILE,  FRO.M  DECEMBER,  1S95,  TO  NO- 
VEMBER, 1896.      FAHRENHEIT    DECREES 


Drc.    I*«. 

K>KlM«r.  Apt.    Mj*  l>ar   jul>  '  Au^.  S'pt.j  Oct. 

Nv«. 

Lowest 

0        0 
-5S  — «* 

-6,       6 

o'o.c        0       0        000        0 

— O*  — 37  -J*    — 5    30       U      *7        $         > 

^      40      .»4      Aj    80      81       76      63      s* 

i          1          f 

0 
2i 

Hifhest. 

TABLES     OF     TEMPERATURES,     PROM     SPECIAL     REPORT     OF 

THE  UNITED  STATES  (.EOLIM.ICAL  SURVEY.      FAHRENHEIT 

DEGREES 

LOWEST   TEMfFJlATftF-S 


Slattua  iM.'Frh.  Mar  j  Apr.'  Uj^  |MM'!.luly  |Au^.'V|)«.|  Oil.  No«.  !>«<:. 


O  0|C  0,0  O'O  OjO.C.O 


St.  Mich.««l — 47  — 5S  — >*  — a?    — «    »»      33      3«  I  "*  |       3—^4—41 

Foct  kduoc*  (near  l>aw»oo|  — 80 — 7^^  — j'>      10     16 I  18    — n'— 50— 69 

^ 'I  -  I         i  > 

HIGHEST  TtMfKa.iTt  aES 


9ntitm                          ,  |Mi.'Feb.  Mar 

Aj- 

0 

¥> 

0    ,       C    , 

$7  1  75  ' 
t6       ..    ' 

luhr  Auc    S|>». 

0,0          = 
7$      <N      <*» 

55 

N\rr. 

0 

3*> 

!o.c 

St  Michael '  aS  I  a?  1  ai 

0 
45 

For  kcluacc  (n«ar  I>a«r«un>   ju  1  27  |  4$ 

PRECIPITATION    (raIN   AND  SNOW)   IN   INCHES 


Ja«.      h>h  iMar  Ape.      Mar    'l»»*'  Fuly   Auj{    S|H.'«Kt.    V.».  I»er, 


Jiuwta. '  fo.17  '4.«>S'7.ao  4.40!  to. »S  (5.45  6.41I7.  I4'7.83|6.36  7.*^  7.  jS 

Ft.  Reliaaoe  (nr.  DawsoA>     7.40  i.^>  1.13004,    o.6>4i  ..  s.  ^^{0.79  a.^t  1.7S 

469 


APPENDIX 

TEMPERATrRK  OHSKRVED  AT  riRCI.K   CITY,    1S97.       KAllRKN- 

HEIT  DKllRKKS 


«kt.     NiiT.    Ilrv:. 


Hlflhwt,  4t  't  A.M '.('>'       if*        30 

L<>«c<«t iS     — 40  —  14 

Mean ..._    i  j  —7^  —6 


IV 


UNITED   STATES   MIMTARV    IN'  ALASKA 

On  October  29.  i8<;7,  by  onler  of  the  Secretary  <»f  W.ir.  all  the 
larJ  and  ishuids  within  a  radius  of  one  hundred  miles  from  St. 
Ttlichael  Island  was  declared  a  n)ilitary  reser\ation  and  named 
-Fort  St.  Michael."  Other  military  posts  have  lx?en  established 
at  Tarana,  Circle  City,  Eagle  City,  Djea,  and  Wrangell. 


.       THE    BOrNDARY    DISPUTE 

In  1867  the  United  States  acquireil  by  purchase  the  territory 
held  by  the  Russians  in  North  America.  The  boundary  iHiwoen 
Russian  America  and  the  British  Possessions  had  previously  l)cen 
defined  in  a  treaty  between  (Ireat  Britain  and  Russia,  namini^  the 
141SI  meridian,  from  the  Arctic  ()cean  to  Mount  St.  Klias.  thence 
southward  alonij  the  summit  of  «  ranitje  of  mountains.  The  first 
attempt  by  the  I'nited  Stales  to  im'ate  the  Ixmndary  was  made 
in  1S69,  when  Captain  Raytnond.  I'.S.  A..  as<'ended  the  Yukon  to 
the  Porcupine  River,  and  by  roujjh  observations  discoveretl  Fort 
Yukon. a  Hudson's  B;iy  Co.'spost.tol>e  in  .\merican  territory'.  No 
further  attempt  was  made  by  any  one  until  Lieutenant  S<'hvvatka. 
in  1883,  roughly  located  the  line  at  •'Boundary  Butte."  at  the  mouth 
ol  Mission  Creek.  In  1S87  the  Canadian  government  s<mU  a  {Kirty 
of  exploration  into  the  Yukon,  and  instructed  Mr.  William  Ogil- 
vie  to  make  astronomical  obs«'rvations  and  locale  ih«  boundary. 
In  the  winter  of  1887-88  .Mr.  Ogilvie  built  an  obs<'rvatorv  on  the 
Yukon,  below  Forty-Mile,  and  lr>cated  the  line  nine  miles  to  the 
eastward  of  Sthwatka's  line.     To  verify  this,  the  United  States. 

470 


•^•^^^n^'.^,-^'s:>cfr,tim*M>mtm>.  .   um.  »-^>>*T*.a.M.Miw— ->=»— ^ 


A  V  P  H  N  D  I  X 

in  1889,  sent  two  mcinhcrs  of  the  Oxist  and  (Icodelic  Survey. 
Messrs.  Turner  and  Magrath.  who  located  the  line  to  tlic  westward 
of  Ogilvic.  but  a  revision  of  MajLirath's  tij;ures  showed  the  hne  to 
be  t'as/  of  Oijilvie's.  Meanwhile  Forty- Mile  Creek,  which  lay 
on  both  sides  of  the  siip|H)setl  boundary,  was  attainini;  such  im- 
portance that  the  Canadian  government  entered  into  corres|>ond- 
cnce  with  the  Cnited  States  j^overnment  with  a  view  to  the  aj>- 
pointment  of  ct)mmissit)ners  to  meet  and  linally  decide  u|M>n  the 
line.  In  iS«/>.  Mr.  Oi^ilvie.  the  Canadian  commissioner,  pro- 
cee<led  to  the  Yukon.  e.\{KHtin<^  to  meet  a  commissioner  from  the 
United  States,  but.  none  ap|>earin};.  he  al«)ne  cut  out  the  present 
line,  which  has  bi-en  accepted  by  the  miners  as  tinal,  .As  res^iects 
the  southern  c<xist  of  .\laska.  however,  the  wording;  of  the  treaty  is 
not  so  clear.  The  line  laid  down  uj>on  all  maps  followed  the  crest 
of  a  ranj'e  of  mountains  jwrallel  with  the  C(Kist-line.  some  distance 
inland,  and  li;  shown  as  crossing  Uike  Lindeman.  Neither  the 
United  States  nor  Cana(fh  seems  to  have  considered  the  exact 
location  of  this  jxirtof  the  lineof  much  imj>ortance  until  the  <lis- 
covery  of  the  Klon<like.  when  it  t)ecame  desirable  for  Canada  to 
obtain  a  port  by  which  she  could  enter  the  Yukon  without 
crossing  American  territory.  Ujjon  the  failure  of  her  various 
altcm|>ls  to  put  throujjh  a  feasible  "all -Canadian  "  route  into 
the  Yukon.  Canada  vigorously  as>erted  her  ri^ht.  by  interpreta- 
tion of  the  treaty,  to  the  |M)ss€Ssion  of  Dyeaand  Skaj^way.  at  the 
head  of  Lynn  Canal,  daiminj^  that  the  canals  or  fjords  which  in- 
dent the  ctKist  <A  .Alaska  merely  cut  into  but  <lo  not  break  the 
"  continuous  ranj^e  of  mountains "'  desij^natcd  as  the  boundary, 
and  forthwith  demanding;  arbitration.  The  American  contention 
is  that  there  is  no  continuous  ran<;e  of  mountains  alonp  the  coast, 
although  numerous  hij^h  jK^ks;  that  the  canals  or  fjords  elTectu- 
ally  break  the  continuity  of  any  ranj;e  that  mij;ht  exist,  ;'.nd.  be- 
sides, they  cannot  consent  to  arbitrate  territory  that  has  been 
in  undis^Hited  possession  of  the  United  States  and  of  Russia. 
A  tnoifui  vivt'tiJi  has  been  agreed  upon  whereby  Canada  remains 
in  possession  of  her  jxjsts  at  the  Chilkoot  and  White  Pass  and 
Chilkal  summits  pending  a  tinal  settlement. 


THE   END 


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